Return-Path:
Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 20:36:21 -0800
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
To: trek@healer.com
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Introduction
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Content-Type: text
Content-Length: 3232
Status: RO
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Introduction
Well,where do I start? Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel that I wrote last year and revised
this Spring, and I'm finally getting around to posting it, due to overwhelming popular
demand (OK, I'm exaggerating--but I do appreciate all of you who *did* ask me to post it).
It's long, 17 chapters and an epilog to be exact, and I'll post it a chapter at a time to
alt.fan.q and alt.startrek.creative, with each chapter being divided into parts. As it is posted,
Qstruck will also be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to
Mercutio and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara. It's about my two favorite
boys, Q and Picard, but unlike my other ventures, it's PG-13 rated (or would be if the two
characters involved weren't the same sex). It takes place shortly after "All Good Things . .
." and exists in a completely different continuity from "She Moves in Mysterious Ways" and
"With or Without You." I actually wrote this first, but one of the things that makes these
characters so splendid is that the possibilities of interpretation are endless, including mutually
exclusive ones.
Some acknowledgments and thanks are in order. First of all to Patrick Stewart and John de
Lancie for such memorable, electrifying, and erotically-charged performances and to Ron
Moore for writing "Tapestry," and co-writing "All Good Thing . . . ," without which this
wouldn't be possible. I also interviewed John de Lancie (on the phone, and I was a babbling
idiot, BTW) and Ron Moore for some more scholarly ventures of mine, and I hope they'll
excuse me for adapting some of their observations and insights to a considerably less
scholarly venture here. I also need to acknowledge some published sources. I consulted the
"Star Trek The Next Generation Technical Manual" by Rick Sternbach and Michael Okuda
(as well as the CD-ROM, which is a blast) quite often; Treknobabble is not my specialty,
and any egregious errors are, of course, my own. The "Star Trek Encyclopedia" by Michael
Okuda, Denise Okuda, and Debbie Mirek was incredibly helpful, and I consulted it
continuously. Finally, there's bound to be some influence from Peter David's "Q-in-Law"
and "Q-Squared," and my references to the Academy Marathon were largely shaped by
Carmen Carter's "The Devil's Heart."
At the risk of sounding like an Oscar winner, I also have to thank several people for reading
this and offering support and/or constructive criticism: Ruth Gifford, for being Ruth and for
flattery (which got her everywhere), Bill Richey, Brian Lenertz, Chris Van Winkle, Janet
Coleman, KC Kleinman, Mercutio, and, especially, Alara Rogers, editor and Q expert
extraordinaire, without whose thoughtful and brilliant editorial suggestions, as well as her
many insights and ideas about his Qness, this story would be a lot less true to character and
make a lot less sense. Reading "Only Human" and Alara's other stories while working on
this was extremely intimidating but tremendously edifying, and she's had a huge and
unquantifiable influence on all my writing about Q.
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
Return-Path:
Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 20:41:39 -0800
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
To: trek@healer.com
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 1 (1/2)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Content-Type: text
Content-Length: 12294
Status: O
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by
Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each
chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks
to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous
sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a
religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a
disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams
and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well
as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with
double slashes (//).
Prologue and Chapter 1 (Part 1 of 2)
Prologue
//In a small villa in the French wine country, in the year 2390, the occupant lay asleep on a
sofa, a cat curled up next to him. Suddenly the sleeper's limbs jerked convulsively;
dreaming of falling, he awoke with a violent jolt, displacing the indignant cat. "You'd think
I'd have gotten used to that by now," he murmured to the cat. Hearing a knock at the door,
he got up to answer it, paused for a moment, putting his hand to the small of his back, then
opened the door with a sigh, admitting a bald elderly man, who had a concerned look on his
face and asked, "Are you all right?"//
//"Just a bad dream and a bad back. I don't expect either one will kill me . . . right away.
At least I still have some hair."//
//The visitor nodded sympathetically and asked,"If you knew how difficult it was going to
be, would you still have done it?"//
//"Yes, of course. You're worth any amount of difficulty. And believe me you've caused
me a lot."//
//"Well, I could certainly say the same for you! But you can still go back if you wish. This
isn't engraved in stone."//
//"They might take me back, but I made a decision, and, I might add, the most worthwhile
decision I've ever made. I don't regret it. Never have, never will. But it certainly does
take some getting used to."//
//The cat began to meow. "What is it now?" demanded its owner. "You think you're the
center of the universe, Beastie--do you know that?"//
//The visitor smiled. "Well, you've certainly found a companion you can relate to--you two
have so much in common."//
//"You wound me, Jean-Luc . . ."//
//("Who am I kidding? Myself apparently. Would I really make that sacrifice for
*anybody*? Not likely. Would it matter to him if I did? Equally unlikely. And what's
with the cat? I don't even *like* animals. Well, I've let my imagination run away with me
again; that's the most implausible future I've dreamed up yet. Sleeping next to a cat?
What'll I think of next? The possibilities, apparently, are endless.")//
Chapter 1
On a dark planet in an uninhabited and remote part of the galaxy, a figure sat on a ledge
near the top of a mountain, watching a light show of swirling color unfolding in space.
Coruscating bands of purple and pink, blue and green, interspersed with flashes of silver,
whirled and rippled in an eternal and breathtaking ballet of hues which intermingled and
flowed apart in a perpetual series of waves and spirals. This spot, and its view, was known
to him alone, and it always brought him a measure of peace, temporarily soothing the
restlessness and boredom that drove him from place to place in search of diversion. At the
same time, he felt an overpowering loneliness, a feeling that grew with every visit to his
mountaintop refuge. He longed to share this view with someone, and not just anyone, a
particular someone, but he had no idea how to go about attaining that goal. For a being who
could get whatever he wanted with a snap of the finger or a wave of the hand (that is, when
he was in human form and had fingers and hands), this state was frustrating, to say the least.
Q, for it was indeed Q, got up and paced restlessly on the ledge, his hands behind his back,
then sat down again with a heavy sigh. A second later, an ironic smile crossed his face; he
was a creature of irony, and even as he indulged his feelings, he couldn't help mocking
himself for them at the same time. "//I've obviously been spending too much time with
humans//," he thought, "//I'm starting to get sentimental//." Q wasn't one to berate himself
for long, however; he was accustomed to believe that whatever he happened to be thinking or
feeling was the right thing to be thinking or feeling. And moreover it was the *only* right
thing to be thinking or feeling. Still, this attachment to a mere human was troubling to him;
what was it about Jean-Luc Picard that drew him? He sighed again, for he knew the answer.
Q liked a challenge, and Picard had posed one since their first encounter. The Captain had a
commanding presence; he had imagination and ambition and drive and passion. He had a
good deal more depth than most humans, and a contained, focused, yet towering energy that
Q found quite attractive. That focus and drive seemed so appealing to Q because he lacked
those qualities himself. Picard had accomplished a great deal despite his myriad limitations,
perhaps even because of them, whereas Q had never had to work for anything. There was
indeed something admirable about human aspiration and drive, and Picard had more of that
inner vitality than any other human he had encountered. He was also a very good-looking
man, Q thought with a wry smile; he had been around humans long enough to absorb some
of their aesthetic criteria.
But there was something else, too, an inexplicable bond or connection he felt that
transcended the insurmountable differences between the two of them. What did humans call
it? Chemistry? Ever the narcissist, Q was convinced that he saw a great deal of himself in
Picard, and he liked what he saw. Picard's arrogance, his high opinion of himself, and his
refusal to be intimidated by Q all tickled Q immensely; in so many ways Picard reacted just
the way he would to a given situation. Of course, Q had had to take great pains to teach
Picard that; the man had to die and be revived before he would finally admit that the ways in
which he resembled Q were an essential part of his character. Whatever it was, Q felt more
alive when he was with Picard than he could remember feeling in centuries.
He thought repeatedly about expressing some of his feelings toward his object of affection,
but vulnerability was *not* his preferred mode. On the occasions when he had had the
opportunity, he had only been able to manage oblique hints, which Picard had either not
processed or deliberately ignored. Instead of simply saying what he felt, Q had been unable
to resist the temptation to make a gratuitous display of his power to try to force Picard to
acknowledge his dominion. He couldn't simply tell Picard that he was maddeningly jealous
of Vash, when the profit-minded archeologist had dropped in on the Enterprise; he had to
force Picard into yet another one of his tests, a Robin Hood scenario designed to show
Picard how love was bringing out the worst in him. Q's resulting departure with Vash
hadn't had the intended result either, but at least he had an entertaining companion for a
while, one who helped him recapture something of a sense of wonder at the glories of the
universe. The particular view in front of him he hadn't shared with her, however. She was
a diversion, nothing more.
When Picard had died on the operating table, after he had been fired upon and his artificial
heart had failed, Q couldn't resist playing authority figure and forcing Picard to bend to his
will once again. He had simply intended to tell Picard something of his feelings and restore
him to life, but when the time came, it was as if he was compelled to put the Captain
through yet another test, this one giving him the opportunity to relive a portion of his past he
was ashamed of. Although Picard had initially walked right into Q's trap, making the wrong
decision, Q of course restored him to life anyway, after giving him the opportunity to rectify
his errror. For all the fondness he felt for Jean-Luc, he had enjoyed playing God and
teaching Jean-Luc a lesson, a lesson which he admittedly was grateful for.
Q also wondered why, even when he was doing something for Jean-Luc's benefit, he
couldn't help ridiculing and humiliating him while parading his own superiority. Was it that
he was ashamed of his own feelings for a member of such an inferior species? Perhaps his
continual derision toward Picard was a projection of his own confusion. As it was, his
extremely undeveloped interpersonal skills had only increased Picard's contempt for him. It
was only in their most recent encounters that the Captain had expressed gratitude for Q's
assistance and just the barest beginning of comprehension of Q's fascination with him.
At this point, curiosity overwhelmed any doubts he may have had, and he began probing
Picard's mind, wondering if the man was thinking about him at all. He knew the Captain
would not be at all happy about these invasions of his privacy, but he figured what he didn't
know wouldn't hurt him. Q was never one to be stopped by ethical considerations, although
there were lines even he wouldn't cross. This, however, was not one of them. "//So, mon
Capitaine//," he thought to himself, "//have you forgotten me completely?//" Picard's
conscious mind was absorbed with the details of the mission he was engaged in, some
diplomatic trivia regarding a planet petitioning for entry into that pointless Federation. Q
probed further; for him, entering the mind of another was like a trip in virtual reality; he not
only sensed emotions and verbally expressed thoughts, but detected repressed emotions and
unconscious stored memories as well, receiving a stream of words, images, memories, and
feelings. He could, of course, absorb the entire contents of a human's mind all at once, but
he enjoyed the journey of penetrating the layers of consciousness one at a time, while
filtering out irrelevant or uninteresting information. As if entering an inner room, Q
investigated Picard's subconscious mind, with only the slightest pang of guilt. The image of
Beverly Crusher was prominent, much to his disgust. He had no idea what Jean-Luc saw in
her besides her looks. Further still, however, much to his delight, he discovered himself as
if looking in a mirror. The emotions swirling around the image of Q in Picard's mind were
of irresolution and perplexity, as if his thoughts of Q were a puzzle he could not solve, and
had decided to put in the back of his mind. Q detected gratitude, curiosity as to why Q had
taken such an interest in him, and a wholly unconscious pinprick of affection.
The entity decided to conduct an experiment. He could, of course, have simply brainwashed
Picard into falling in love with him, abandoning his position, and devoting the rest of his
lifetime to Q. But Q knew that what was not what he wanted. While he had developed
enough of an ethical sense not to overwhelm the object of his affections entirely, he couldn't
resist a little test, a test in which Picard would be totally unaware of his involvement. He
knew that if he and Picard ever did get closer, he would have to behave himself, or at least
appear to be behaving himself, so he might as well enjoy being a cad while he could.
Extracting a memory from Picard's own mind, Q planted it in his subject's consciousness,
then sat back to enjoy the show, completely oblivious to the galactic wonders unfolding in
front of him on his mountaintop.
* * *
Q's attention being drawn to Picard, he did not notice that in the far reaches of the Alpha
Quadrant, at a location unimaginably distant from where Q was now, something had
penetrated the galactic barrier, something utterly alien. It rested and waited, having come a
very long way. After all, this galaxy would offer plenty of opportunities. Some kind of
prey would come along in time.
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
Return-Path:
Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 20:44:40 -0800
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
To: trek@healer.com
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 1 (2/2)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Content-Type: text
Content-Length: 12124
Status: O
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by
Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each
chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks
to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous
sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a
religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a
disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams
and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well
as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with
double slashes (//).
Chapter 1 (Part 2 of 2)
* * *
Jean-Luc Picard was in his ready room, scanning historical and cultural information about
the Angrians, the people petitioning for admittance into the Federation. He wanted to know
as much as possible, so as not to commit any diplomatic gaffes. Although he was a skilled
diplomat, the task in front of him was not commanding his full attention. He was beginning
to daydream, in fact.
Much to his surprise a visual memory popped into his conscious mind. It was when Q had
given him the opportunity to relive a portion of his past, and he had spent an enchanting
night with his old friend Marta Batanides. It was not Marta who popped into his mind,
however; instead, the memory was of waking up the next morning, feeling a finger lightly
stroking his ear, and rolling over to discover Q lying next to him and greeting him with an
affectionate "Morning, Darling." Picard had, instinctively, yanked the covers up to his chin.
What was nagging him about the memory, however, what puzzled him, was not his initial
reaction to Q's presence, but rather, how quickly he had felt comfortable lying in bed and
chatting with an entity he had come to think of as his most potent (and irritating) adversary.
He remembered, as well, confiding in Q the previous day about some of his amorous
indiscretions, and hearing Q remark, "I had no idea you were such a cad. I'm impressed."
There was something puzzling about the entity's tone of voice--it seemed almost . . . well . .
. affectionate.
("//Well, of course it was affectionate, you incurable dimwit//," thought Q as he observed
the memories unfolding in Picard's mind and his responses to them, "//Do I have to spell
*everything* out?//")
Picard, meanwhile, was unaware that his daydream was being observed by the unimaginable
telepathic powers of the very being he was daydreaming about. He would have been
incensed, but in his blissful state of ignorance, he merely ruminated on how odd it was that
he could chat so casually with Q. He realized later that Q had indeed engineered the whole
incident for his, Picard's, benefit. Q had saved his life and at the same time had helped him
become reconciled to an incident in his past he had deeply regretted. But in this particular
memory, waking up to find Q beside him, it was perplexing that he could have felt so
relaxed, almost intimate, with him. Was he, God forbid, beginning to perceive Q as a
friend, or had Q simply lulled him into an unguarded state of mind? How could he assume
that any feeling he had about Q was not planted by Q himself? Q was certainly capable of
making him think whatever he wanted, yet somehow the conversation he remembered, the
circumstances, and his own feelings seemed somehow natural, not something planted in his
brain from without.
("//No, I'm not brainwashing you, Jean-Luc. I may have called that memory into your
consciousness, but the rest came from you. If you're starting to think of me as a friend, then
that is entirely of your own volition!//" Q smiled to himself; his experiment was going
better than he thought. He noted that Picard was about to be summoned back to the bridge,
and, a little wistfully, disengaged his mind from the Captain's.)
Still unable to make sense of his reflections about Q, Picard was summoned to the bridge.
He too, although he wouldn't have been able to pinpoint the emotion, and would have denied
it if it were pointed out for him, felt a kind of wistful regret at having his daydream
interrupted. Soon thereafter, Q also received a summons. He wasn't happy--being
summoned by the Continuum was a bad sign. Q had a distinct feeling he wasn't going to
like what he was about to hear.
* * *
//Standing on the surface of a planet with twin moons, Riker watched aghast as creatures in
Napoleonic-era soldier uniforms attacked his friends. He was filled with horror as he
watched Worf's death-struggle, as one of the creatures repeatedly stabbed him with a
bayonet. Then, Wes . . . God, no, not Wes! . . . ran over to Worf's body and was impaled
through the back. An echoing voice urged him, "Use your power! Use the power of the
Q!" Riker couldn't take any more. In a fury, he exclaimed, "Damn it! DAMN IT TO
HELL!" and his arm flashed as he intended to create a force field to protect his friends.//
//Nothing happened.//
//Nothing.//
//Worf and Wes lay still on the ground, and the inhuman soldiers advanced . . . and kept
advancing. //
//A mocking, disembodied voice resounded through the landscape, "JUST KIDDING!"//
Riker howled in frustration, waking himself up in the process. "//I hate him! God, how I
hate him!//" he thought to himself. He tried to calm himself by reminding himself that it
hadn't happened that way; none of his crewmates' lives had been lost. It didn't matter. "//I
still hate him. I wish we'd never heard of the God damned Q Continuum//."
* * *
//Picard sat up straight in the Captain's chair, giving commands as the Enterprise fled from
the Borg ship at maxium warp. Photon torpedoes exploded harmlessly off the Borg ship,
utterly ineffective. The shields were failing, and the Borg were about to recapture his ship
with their tractor beam. And Q, damn him, was lying draped on the bridge railing, in a
maddeningly relaxed pose, as if nothing of consequence was going on. A few moments
later, after Q had taken over Data's chair at Ops, Picard knew what he had to do. He
demanded, "Q end this!"//
//"Moi? What makes you think I'm either inclined or capable to terminate this encounter?"//
//Very well then, thought Picard, he had to humiliate himself utterly. He had to allow Q to
triumph or lose the lives of his crew. It was an easy decision, but he knew he had to make a
convincing performance, to allow the sadistic entity to have the complete victory he desired.
"If we all die here, now, you will not be able to gloat," began Picard in a strained voice.
"You wanted to frighten us, we're frightened. You wanted to show us that we were
inadequate for the moment, I grant that. You wanted me to say I need you, I NEED
YOU!"//
//Q smiled . . . snapped his fingers . . . and vanished. Utterly.//
//Slowly, inexorably, her shields down, her weapons useless, the Enterprise was being drawn
into the maw of the Borg vessel, to be dismantled, her technology plundered, her crew
assimilated or killed. He had led his entire ship and crew to destruction, in some
god-forsaken part of the galaxy, because he had been too arrogant to accept Q's offer of
guidance. And Q was pitiless. It was over . . .//
Picard sat up, looked around his bedroom, temporarily disoriented, then realized he had been
having a nightmare. Perhaps his knowledge of the disastrous events that came later, the
Borg invasion, his own near-assimilation, and the later alliance of some of the Borg with
Lore, had caused his mind to rewrite the script of that first encounter. But it could have
happened that way, he thought, deeply shaken.
* * *
//Geordi La Forge was in Engineering, reluctantly trying to protect Q, who was in a
shuttlecraft, being pursued by the Calamarain. As far as he was concerned, the Calamarain
could do whatever they wanted with that arrogant, self-absorbed jerk, who had come
swaggering into Engineering like he owned the place and hadn't shown the least bit of
concern that Data had been severely injured while saving his useless life. He had better
things to do than trying to save Q . . . like making a second attempt to restore the orbit of
the Bre'el IV moon and saving millions of lives. La Forge could not remember feeling so
callous before, but when all of his controls froze, and he could neither extend the shields
around Q's stolen shuttlecraft nor get a lock with the tractor beam, he wasn't exactly sorry.//
//Unable to operate the frozen controls, La Forge headed up to the bridge to see if he could
help there. The Calamarain had vanished along with the shuttle. They had apparently seen
the last of Q. Then, much to his disgust, Q suddenly appeared, complete with a mariachi
band, to celebrate his restored omnipotence. Just as quickly he disappeared again. Suddenly
Worf exclaimed, "Captain, the moon!" All heads turned toward the viewscreen, as the
Bre'el moon plunged into the planet's surface. Although he was almost in shock, La Forge
could have sworn that he heard a disembodied voice exclaim "Oops!"//
"//What the hell?//" thought Geordi to himself as he woke up. "//Q saved those people.
Why did I dream it like that?//"
* * *
//Reluctantly dressed as Will Scarlett, Worf was battling his way through a group of guards
in a medieval castle, trying to protect the Captain. Picard, dressed as Robin Hood, was
fencing with Sir Guy of Gisborne, all of them trapped in a ridiculous scenario staged by Q.
Ridiculous as it was, Worf knew it was also real, and lives were at stake. He plunged
toward the stairs to help Picard, only to watch in horror as Sir Guy's sword stabbed deep
into his vitals. With a roar, Worf leapt upon Sir Guy from behind, strangling him in an
instant, but it was too late. The Captain's fallen body lay sprawled on the stairs, the sword
protruding out of his abdomen . . .//
Worf found himself being shaken awake by Alexander. "Father," exclaimed the child, "I
heard you yell. Are you all right?"
"It was just a dream," responded Worf gruffly, embarrassed at his reaction.
* * *
//Beverly Crusher was doing everything she knew to save Jean-Luc's life. He had been
carried into sick bay by Worf, having been fired upon, and his artificial heart was failing.
The inaprovaline and cortical stimulators had no effect. Although she maintained an outward
calm, Beverly's heart was racing, and she was terrified. Despite all of her efforts,
Jean-Luc's life ebbed out of him, and he died on the operating table.//
Waking up with a start, her heart pounding, Crusher gasped. Maybe the dream meant
something was really wrong with Jean-Luc. When the actual events transpired, he had
recovered, convinced that Q had restored him, but Beverly was never entirely sure how he
had survived. Afraid to wake him, but even more afraid not to, she summoned him through
the comm link. "Crusher to Picard, are you all right?"
Picard's voice sounded rather dazed and disoriented, "Yes, Beverly, I'm fine. What is it?"
"I'm sorry. I had a nightmare, and I just had to check on you. I'm sorry to wake you."
"You didn't wake me, actually. I had a bad dream as well. But it's all right. Try to go
back to sleep."
Eventually Riker, La Forge, Worf, Picard, and Crusher fell back asleep. Although they
didn't compare notes on their dreams, they all awoke the next morning with a sense of
forboding that Q would soon be making another appearance and that, despite the fact that
their dreams contradicted the actual events, he was definitely not to be trusted. For each of
them it seemed that the dream versions of their experiences were just as plausible and there
was no reason to believe that Q wouldn't, one day, use his powers against them in a
genuinely destructive fashion.
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From ataras@covina.lightside.com Fri Aug 4 01:46 EDT 1995
Return-Path:
Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 22:44:27 -0800
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
To: trek@healer.com
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 2 (1/2)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Content-Type: text
Content-Length: 17472
Status: O
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by
Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each
chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks
to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous
sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a
religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a
disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams
and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well
as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with
double slashes (//).
Chapter 2 (Part 1 of 2)
That night, the Captain had just retired to his quarters. His diplomatic mission was
proceeding smoothly, but he was tense and knew he would be unable to sleep. There were
ominous signs coming from the Cardassian border, and Starfleet Intelligence was reporting a
gradual buildup and movement of ships. The Angrians' petition might have to be put off
until a later time. Picard sighed and spoke to the replicator, "Tea, Earl Grey, hot." But just
as he was reaching for his tea, a by-now familiar burst of light announced the arrival of Q in
the room.
Picard's mind flashed back to his nightmare, but he maintained a nonchalant demeanor. No
point in revealing his uneasiness to Q. "Well, back so soon, Q. I guess you can't get
enough of us."
"Greetings and salutations, mon Capitaine," returned the entity, but his face looked drawn
and worried, and he lacked his usual joie de vivre. "Jean-Luc, I'm sorry, but you have to
come with me now. Directive from the Continuum. I don't have any choice." Before
Picard could respond, they had vanished from Picard's quarters and had reappeared on the
surface of an uninhabited planet a good many light years away.
"What's this all about, Q? You know, I'm really getting tired of being snatched off my ship
when I'm in the middle of a mission. Couldn't you phone for an appointment for once?"
"*My* ship, *my* ship. My, aren't we indispensable? This is going to concern a whole lot
more than your damned ship. Anyway, believe me, Jean-Luc, this is *not* my idea. In
fact, I think it's a *terrible* idea. I tried to talk *them*" (at this Q raised his eyebrows and
gestured skyward) "out of it, but, as usual, no one listens to me. Frankly I don't think you
can handle it."
"Handle what?
"Look, let me try to talk sense to them one more time." Q closed his eyes in silent
communication with his superiors, sighed, and said, "No good. They said if I won't do it,
they'll send someone else who will. And if you have to go through with it, then I want to be
with you to keep you out of trouble. You can of course turn down our offer, Jean-Luc," and
with a menacingly serious tone, he added, "And if you want my advice, I strongly suggest
you do just that."
"I'm losing patience, Q, what offer?"
"Well, if you insist. I am here to formally offer you, Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the USS
Enterprise, the powers of the Q. But if you have an ounce of common sense, you won't
accept."
Picard gasped, "The powers of the Q? Why? Wasn't your experiment with Riker
sufficient?"
"Oh, *you* performed so far beyond expectations on our last little test, the Continuum
decided to make things a little more challenging. Riker has no imagination, and anyway I
only gave him a portion of my abilities; they want to see what *you* would do--with full Q
powers."
"Under what conditions? Must I join the Continuum?"
"No conditions. I just hand you the power and sit back to enjoy the show. Or, if I have any
sense, I get the hell out of here."
"Really, Q, your confidence in me is truly inspiring. It's touching to know you think so
highly of me," retorted Picard, then added with an even harder edge to his voice, "Why
exactly do you think I can't handle it?"
"It's not exactly that I don't think you can handle it, Picard; it's that I think you're going to
misuse it."
Picard laughed, and it wasn't a mirthful laugh either. "Moi?" he queried, taking a page out
of Q's book. "That's a good one, Q. You're a fine one to worry about someone else
misusing power."
"I'm dead serious, Jean-Luc. As serious as I've ever been. I'll admit that I have often
given into the temptation to misuse my powers. I'm bored and restless, and when you're
immortal and omnipotent, novel forms of entertainment are increasingly hard to come by.
I'm also phenomenally selfish, I'll confess." ("//So what's new?//" thought Picard to
himself.) "I heard that, Picard, so watch it. You're still the mere mortal here. But since I
was being so humble as to list my shortcomings, allow me to continue. As I said, I'm bored
and restless and selfish, I'm egotistical and stubborn and arrogant (and in that respect, you
and I are more alike than you think, mon Capitaine), but the thing I am *not* is driven. I
have no ambition whatsoever; why should I? I can have whatever I want whenever I want it.
The idea of combining your drive and your energy with the power of the Q is frankly utterly
terrifying to me. The Continuum are curious to see whether you would accept the offer at
all and what you would do with the power once accepted. All in the name of scientific
research, your tax dollars at work. But I think it'll be a disaster. I can see you're not going
to listen to me, either, Jean-Luc."
The possibilities began to unfold rapidly through the Captain's mind. Although Riker hadn't
shown himself capable of handling it, Picard was curious about what it felt like; he couldn't
imagine that his firm ethical grounding would simply vanish with the advent of unlimited
power. He replied to his companion, "It's an unparalleled opportunity. Your utter lack of
confidence in my ethics and in my self-control notwithstanding, there is so much I could
learn. It's very tempting, Q. To think of all the good I could do, the lives I could save,
even if I have the power for only a short while. I have no intention of keeping it."
Q looked downcast, and murmured softly, "But you won't do good, and you won't be
willing to give it back. Much as I hope against hope that you would on both counts, I'm
betting against you. Oh, well, I'm not being a very good tempter, am I? I'm trying my
hardest to talk you out of it."
"For that reason alone, I intend to accept," snapped Picard. "I'm really tired of you
condescending to me, Q. This time I intend to *prove you wrong*!"
"Well, mon Capitaine, if you *screw up*, as I expect you will, I intend to be the first to say,
*I told you so*."
"No doubt," remarked Picard wryly. "But you won't have the opportunity. Now," he added
in a hard voice, "I formally accept your kind offer."
"And I thought I was egotistical," muttered Q. He looked skyward and declared, "I won't
be responsible for the consequences," then, with a palpable reluctance and a deeply worried
look, extended his arm in a grand gesture toward Picard. "VOILA!"Picard's eyes snapped
open. He felt himself expanding inwardly in all directions. Doors opened in his mind and
light flooded into newly created rooms. Energy surged through every fiber of his body. He
felt as though he could smash and rebuild dozens of solar systems, and he thought that he
understood the ultimate fabric of the universe. He transcended dimensions; he could move
anywhere he wanted in time and space. Infinite choices and possibilities burst upon his
consciousness. He was convinced that he could fix whatever it was that was wrong in the
galaxy, and he was equally convinced that it was his destiny to do so. "//I, Jean-Luc
Picard//," he thought to himself, "//am now a god//," and he laughed and laughed and
laughed, giddy with exhilaration and power.
Q leaned back against a tree, shaking his head. "//I knew this was a bad idea//."
"//I heard that//," returned Picard in his mind. "//You're lucky I have other plans, or I
would be exceedingly tempted to give you a good thrashing//."
"Just try it, mon *dieu*" retorted Q, with that last word laced with bitter sarcasm beyond
any Picard had heard from Q before. Q continued, "but if you do have other plans, I believe
I will go watch from a safe distance. You might be interested to know there's some activity
near the Cardassian border that might require your *godlike* intervention." With that he
vanished, leaving Picard unsupervised, but not unwatched.
* * *
As soon as Q had taken Picard away from the Enterprise, Guinan shot awake with a start.
"//Not again//," she fumed to herself. She knew immediately what had happened. Her long,
if hostile, acquaintance with Q provided her with an intuitive sense of his presence, and she
had a fair ability to read what would be the equivalent of his conscious mind when she made
the effort to do so. It was neither an easy nor a pleasant experience, however; something
like sensory overload would set in very rapidly, so she didn't avail herself of the opportunity
to probe him except in an emergency. And this was an emergency. Although she knew
what the answer would be, she demanded, "Computer, locate Captain Picard," and the
computer replied evenly, "Captain Picard is not on board the ship." She spoke quickly using
using the comm link, "Commander Riker, this is Guinan. Picard has been taken by Q."
"Riker here. Are you sure?" came the reply.
"You're welcome to check for yourself," said Guinan drily, as she dressed. The expected
summons soon came, and she headed for the bridge.
The ship was on red alert, and Riker had summoned the command crew to the bridge. He
demanded, "Guinan, what can you tell us?"
"Not much, I'm afraid. I believe Picard is in some danger, but there's really no way to
locate him for the time being. I don't think Q intends him any harm, if that's a consolation.
All I can tell you is that as events start happening, you would do well to respond to them in
as restrained and cautious a way as possible, or you could make matters a lot worse."
Guinan knew a good deal more than she was letting on; she always did. But she didn't see
the point in revealing information that might later be prejudicial to Picard, and she knew that
Riker and his crew would not take kindly to being informed that their Captain was in a
tremendously dangerous situation that they absolutely could not do one thing about. She
knew that the best thing would be for the Enterprise to respond to upcoming events as
passively as possible, but she didn't see how she could deliver that advice in any form in
which it would be accepted.
Riker demanded, "What do you mean? What events?"
Guinan sighed, "I'm just the bartender, Commander. This isn't my place. What I do know
is that the more actively you respond to what's coming the more irreparable the long-term
consequences may be. Whatever situations arise, try to stall as long as you can before you
come out shooting. That's all I can say." At this, she turned around and headed for the
turbolift, her robes swirling around her, leaving Riker shaking his head in frustration.
When Riker contacted Starfleet to inform them of Picard's disappearance, he was told that
the Enterprise was not going to be able to engage in a search for the Captain because the
situation at the Cardassian border was too unstable. Admiral Rodriguez said that there would
be a general fleetwide alert about Picard's absence should any information about him be
reported, but he couldn't spare the Enterprise in a situation of this nature. There had already
been a skirmish between a Federation starship and a Cardassian warship, although both had
withdrawn, severely damaged but without serious casualties. "I'm sorry Commander Riker,"
concluded Rodriguez, "if I were in your position, I would want to make finding the Captain
my first priority as well. But we need you at the border."
"Understood," replied Riker. After ordering the course change and informing the Angrians
that the Enterprise had to respond to an emergency situation, Riker called a meeting in the
observation lounge. After recapping recent events, he added, "I know we all want to look
for the Captain, but if it's true he was kidnapped by Q, he could be anywhere in the galaxy,
or outside of it for that matter. I don't see that we have any choice but to obey Starfleet's
orders. Guinan did say she didn't think Q meant the Captain any harm, but, as usual, she
didn't elaborate. What she said that was more puzzling was that she thought we should react
as cautiously as possible to upcoming events, by which I assume she was referring to this
buildup at the Cardassian border."
Data interjected, "Her exact words, I believe, were 'What I do know is that the more
actively you respond to what's coming the more irreparable the long-term consequences may
be. Whatever situations arise, try to stall as long as you can before you come out
shooting.'"
"Commander," snapped Worf, "that doesn't sound advisable to me. If the Cardassians start
shooting . . . "
"Then we will, of course, respond," replied Riker. "But keep in mind that the Captain has
always taken Guinan's advice into account when she has offered it. I don't know what she
knows or how she knows it, but I believe we should keep what she said in mind. We should
try everything possible to avoid a violent confrontation."
Worf muttered to himself, but remained otherwise silent. Data added, "It is possible from
what Guinan said that the Captain's disappearance is somehow linked to the situation at the
Cardassian border. He may be in Cardassian territory. I agree that we should react with
caution."
La Forge and Troi nodded in agreement. Crusher was visibly upset and fought to keep her
voice in control. "I understand that we have to follow orders, but I wish we could do
something for Jean-Luc."
Data turned to the doctor, "Doctor, I will investigate the Captain's disappearance as
thoroughly as I can while we're on course to the Cardassian border."
"Of course, Data, thank you." Crusher managed a weak smile.
Suddenly, with a burst of light, Q appeared in the room. Placing his hands on the
conference table, he leaned forward with an uncharacteristic urgency.
"Q!" demanded Riker, "What have you done with the Captain?"
"Look, if I had more time, I'd complain about the fact that whenever anything goes wrong
around here, you always blame me, but I don't have time for that. You'll just have to trust
me, whether you like it or not. I cannot do anything about Picard for the moment; it's out
of my hands. When I am able to do something, believe me, I will."
"What the hell are you talking about, Q?" asked Riker, furious.
"I'm serious, Riker, so you're just going to have to listen to me and hope that something
penetrates your thick skull. And listen carefully, because things are going to get pretty
intense around here. Guinan's right, much as I hate to admit it. Do whatever you can to
avoid shooting at the Cardassians and try to get the other ships in the fleet to do the same.
Your Captain's in big trouble, and it's going to get a lot worse unless you can get Federation
forces to delay fighting as long as you possibly can. That's the *only* thing you can do for
him. You have a lot of lives you're responsible for, right now, Commander, so I suggest
you make them a higher priority than your instinct to fight. I realize that will be impossible
for *some* of your crew," here Q glanced pointedly at Worf, "but it's all riding on you,
William T. Riker. Try to rise to the occasion for a change." In another flash, Q was gone.
Everyone in the room was shaken by Q's apparent urgency. "Will, I think he means what
he's saying," noted Troi, "I don't see any indication that he was trying to trick or mislead
us."
"I agree," said Data, "remember what the Captain told us about his last experience with Q.
Even though the Continuum was putting him through a test, Q was clearly trying to assist the
Captain."
"Maybe," muttered Riker, "but I still don't trust him. Do any of us really understand what
the Captain's last encounter with Q was all about? With Q there's no way to know if it
really happened, or if he planted the whole thing in the Captain's brain, or if he had some
ulterior motive of his own that he didn't mention to the Captain. Because his advice
coincides with Guinan's, I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt this time, but let's
keep our eyes open. There's no telling what Q's after."
"I would just like to get my hands on him," growled Worf.
"That would not be advisable, Mr. Worf," remarked Data calmly, "given what we know of
Q's powers."
"Mr. Worf," said Riker, "I want a battle readiness report by 1400 hours. Mr. La Forge, see
what you can do to boost shield capacity--if we're going to try to avoid a fight, we need to
augment our defenses. Mr. Data, I need simultaneous communications links with all the
ships in the fleet. And Doctor, . . . "
"We will be prepared for casualties, Commander," replied Crusher. At this the crew
dispersed to their various tasks.
* * *
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From ataras@covina.lightside.com Fri Aug 4 01:49 EDT 1995
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Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 22:47:20 -0800
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
To: trek@healer.com
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 2 (2/2)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by
Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each
chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks
to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous
sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a
religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a
disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams
and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well
as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with
double slashes (//).
Chapter 2 (Part 2 of 2)
Picard spent a short while on the planet Q had brought him to, flexing his new muscles. He
picked up a rock, dazzled to realize that if he chose he could see it at the quantum level, all
of the sub-atomic particles in continuous motion. He imagined the forces holding the
particles together weakening, the particles coming apart. Suddenly, the rock dissolved in his
hands. "//Fascinating//," he thought to himself. He found that teleportation was effortless,
as was his ability to "see" what was going on at any given point in the galaxy he focused on.
He did not, however, focus upon a distant and uninhabited portion of the Alpha Quadrant,
where a visitor from outside the galaxy was waiting and regenerating its energies. Why
would he? Picard amused himself briefly by floating in space and temporarily diverting the
paths of asteroids. He leapt from planet to planet, star system to star system as if
puddle-jumping. From afar he could monitor what was going on on board the Enterprise.
These abilities came naturally and effortlessly; at the same time he found he almost had to
force himself to concentrate on simple displays of his abilities such as these to keep himself
from being overwhelmed by the flood of information that poured into his brain. He had been
given the full complement of Q powers, but he did not have the experience to process this
sudden influx of knowledge so as to filter out what he didn't need and absorb what he did.
It took him some time to realize that the roaring noise in his head was the echo of hundreds
of voices; he was simultaneously reading the minds of every person he had ever encountered
in his lifetime without even intending to. With some effort he was able to shut down and
focus his new telepathic abilities, but he still couldn't handle all the knowledge, both
scientific and metaphysical, at his grasp. The multidimensionality of the universe, the
multitude of time lines and alternate histories, the essence of matter at its most quantum
level, the fact that he personally could visit any point in the universe at any point in time, an
overwhelming realization of the reality of uncertainty and randomness, numerous space-time
fluctuations and paradoxes--all these and other types of knowledge beyond description
flooded into his mind all at once. He knew there was something in there he needed to
concentrate on, and his brain was relieved to focus on a simple, single situation--the
Cardassians were threatening an incursion over the border, and Federation starships and lives
were in danger. He felt that he could use his powers in some way to end the standoff
without casualties, but he also wanted to convince both sides to hammer out a real peace
treaty, one that wouldn't collapse under the slightest perceived violation. The problem was
that he had no idea how to go about it. There was so much activity in his brain that he
couldn't see his way to a solution.
The brief skirmish between the Federation starship and the Cardassian warship had spurred
both sides into a high alert status, and each was sending several ships to the border area for
what would be, at the minimum, a standoff. Picard realized he had some time before both
sides would be able to assemble their fleets and decided to investigate the most infamous
prison camp on Cardassia Prime. That was his first mistake. His initial impulse was to find
a way to force both sides to talk, but when he saw the condition of the starving and tortured
prisoners, the memory of his own victimization by a Cardassian inquisitor rose up before his
eyes as if he was watching a play. He could see his former self helpless and violated,
undergoing an assault of physical and psychological agony. But now he did not feel helpless.
Instead he felt an overwhelming fury, a surge of absolute power concentrated in a single,
good cause--eradicating the galaxy of this tyranny. The anger that arose in him at the
memory of his own torture and his seeing the suffering of the prisoners had the welcome
effect, for him, of blocking out all the other information, knowledge, and sensations that
were surging around his unprepared brain. This anger was something clear and simple that
he could focus on; he felt with absolute certainty that it was his destiny to rid the galaxy of
this scourge.
As he still had some time before the ships would arrive at the border, he systematically
released the prisoners, dispersing them to various Starbases where they could get medical and
psychological care. As he emptied the cells, he filled them with guards, officials, and
inquisitors. Remaining unseen, he used his new telepathic abilities to plant messages in the
minds of his captives, instructing them that the militarism and imperialistic tendencies of
their culture were morally wrong, as was the abuse and torture of prisoners. He also
implanted ideas that he hoped would be the seeds of a more peaceful society. For the
recipients of Picard's experiments in brainwashing, the effect was somewhat like an
instantaneous and unexpected religious conversion. Imprisoned in the cells of their former
victims, the jailkeepers felt an inexplicable and sudden overwhelming sense of guilt for their
crimes, followed by what felt like a sudden realization that all of the values they had pledged
themselves to were wrong. After an hour or so of contemplation the new prisoners were
released to spread the gospel they had just received. Picard, had, in effect, tossed the Prime
Directive out the window; in his omnipotent and omniscient state, it seemed like a foolish
inconvenience, a product of narrow minds unable to sustain a grand and transformative
vision. To all intents and purposes, Picard was no longer himself. The sudden influx of
absolute power had driven him over the edge; he was so beset with his newfound energies
that he had to release them in some fashion. There was no way that his usual ethical sense
or his rational faculties could impose order and restraint; Picard was essentially being
assaulted by irresistable impulses, and his prior experiences were not sufficient to give him
enough of a context for how to handle his omnipotence. Picard had the powers of a god,
along with very human drives, desires, angers, and fears. It was not a good combination.
He emptied out the second-largest prison camp in the same fashion, making a point of using
his newfound talent at mind control to coerce some of the higher officials into releasing any
other prisoners being held throughout Cardassian territory. That task, as he saw it, was
merely bureaucratic, and he didn't want to waste his valuable time. Then he turned his
attention to the border area where the Enterprise and other Federation and Cardassian vessels
were converging.
* * *
While their Captain was blithely transforming the Cardassian culture, the Enterprise was
arriving at its designated position. The Federation was, of course, anxious to avoid a war,
and Riker's orders were compatible with Guinan's advice . . . for the time being. Riker
hailed the commander of the lead Cardassian vessel, Gul Torval. "This is Commander
William T. Riker, acting Captain of the Starship Enterprise. We would like an explanation
of the buildup of warships in your border region, but we, of course, wish to avoid a
confrontation that could lead to an escalation of hostilities. I hope you can assist me in
resolving this matter peacefully."
The reply, in the usual Cardassian style, was blunt. "It is you who must provide us with an
explanation, Commander. One of your starships fired upon one of our vessels, and we will
not tolerate violations of our territory."
"With all due respect," noted Riker, "I believe it was the other way around. But as both
ships survived without casualties, I hope we can find a way to put this incident behind us."
"I'm sure we can find a way to do *that*, Commander!" snarled the Cardassian officer, "But
it may not be in the manner you envision. Your Federation has a lot more than a minor
border skirmish to answer for. Since when is Starfleet in the habit of sending undercover
operatives to foment rebellion in enemy prison camps? You may not approve of our
methods, but I don't believe our peace treaty has any provisions for one side covertly freeing
prisoners on the other side and fostering insurrections among prison officials. What do you
have to say about that, Commander Riker?"
Riker was absolutely stunned as was the rest of the bridge crew. "This is the first I've heard
of this, Gul Torval. Are you sure your information is correct?"
"YES!" came the reply. "Our two largest prison camps have been emptied of prisoners, and
the guards are in open revolt."
"Gul Torval, I would like to request of you some time to investigate these allegations. If I
have the opportunity to consult with Starfleet Command perhaps I can provide some sort of
explanation. Have you captured any of the individuals responsible?"
"No. They have vanished like the prisoners. I will grant you three hours to investigate and
to consult with your superiors. When that time is up, I expect an explanation, some offer of
reparations, and a concrete resolution. This is an extremely serious matter. If we cannot
resolve it, the peace treaty between Cardassia and the Federation will be considered to be
nullified. Do you understand, Commander?"
"Perfectly. Riker out."
The rest of the bridge crew all gasped, having been holding their breaths in shock and
dismay. Riker turned to Troi, whose eyes were wide with astonishment. "He's not lying,
Will."
Data turned around and announced, "Commander, we are receiving reports of former
prisoners of the Cardassians mysteriously appearing in the hospitals of four different
Starbases. There was no sign of any form of transporter beam; they simply materialized."
Riker rubbed his forehead. "Please someone tell me this is a nightmare, and I'm going to
wake up. Can the Captain have *anything* to do with this?"
"I do not believe so, sir."
"How about the Maquis?"
"I do not believe they could have the resources. What is being described is so extraordinary
it can only be the work of an extremely powerful intelligence."
"Q!" said Riker, Troi, and Worf simultaneously.
Troi asked, "But why would Q start releasing the Cardassians' prisoners? It doesn't make
any sense."
Riker interjected, "What Gul Torval said about the guards rebelling--it's conceivable that Q
would be capable of some kind of mind control. Could he be trying to foment a war
between us and the Cardassians?"
"I wouldn't put it past him," growled Worf.
"If you recall, gentlemen," commented Data, "Q urged us, most vehemently, to act with
restraint."
"Maybe he just wanted to make us easier targets," said Worf.
"No," mused Data, "I do not think even Q is capable of that degree of callousness. And if
he wanted to start a war, he could do so in a far simpler fashion."
"Well, the point is that we need to avoid one!" exclaimed Riker. "If anybody has any ideas,
now would be a good time to communicate them."
Silence fell over the bridge. Data finally volunteered to find out as much as he could about
the situation in the prison camps, and Riker retired to Picard's ready room to consult with
Starfleet Command and the commanders of the other starships in the armada.
* * *
Q, meanwhile, was frantic. He was observing everything Picard was doing, but he had been
absolutely forbidden by his superiors to interfere until *they* saw fit. He kept pressing his
point, but his eloquence was unavailing. The Continuum was determined to see the results
of its experiment. Q then became engaged in an internal battle. He knew that stopping
Picard was the only right thing to do, but he was extremely leery of provoking the wrath of
the Continuum. Even though he was no longer officially on parole, he knew that they would
use just about any excuse to drum him out . . . or worse. They had barely tolerated the
assistance he had rendered Picard in the last test they came up with; he had only just
managed to convince them that it would be unfair to expect a human to unravel a temporal
paradox completely unassisted. He was on shaky ground, and he knew it, and at this point,
Q had not mustered enough moral courage to defy the Continuum. He could foresee the
possible consequences to himself all too vividly. He could only hope they would allow him
to stop Picard before the consequences of his behavior were irreparable.
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 3 (1/2)
Date: Mon, 07 Aug 1995 21:39:46 -0800
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 3, Part 1
Starfleet, of course, could not provide any explanation of the mysterious
transformation of the Cardassian prison camps, but they had no intention
of returning the prisoners to their former captors. Regardless of
regulations and peace treaties, such an act of inhumanity could not be
conceived. Everyone felt helpless; there didn't seem to be any way to
appease the warlike Cardassians who were just itching for a fight. Riker
proposed to Admiral Rodriguez that he share his speculations about Q's
involvement with the Cardassian commander; the only hope he could see was
that Gul Torval would understand that both sides were the victims of an
enemy much more powerful than both of them. Riker hailed the Cardassian
lead vessel.
"Gul Torval, we have reason to believe that the events you described to us
were not the work of Starfleet operatives, but were somehow instigated by
Q. We don't know why. Are you aware of the existence of the Q
Continuum?"
"We have, of course, monitored Starfleet reports about this individual's
activities. But you cannot dodge responsibility for Starfleet actions by
laying the blame elsewhere. We insist on holding Starfleet fully
responsible for this interference in our internal affairs. Torval out."
All subsequent attempts to raise the Cardassian warship were in vain. The
Cardassians were apparently determined to fight, and they had no interest
in continuing a conversation. Still racking his mind for a peaceful
solution, Riker reluctantly informed Admiral Rodriguez that a fight
appeared imminent as the three hour deadline came up.
* * *
Picard had stationed himself, unseen, on the surface of a small
uninhabited moon near the Cardassian border. He was so caught up in his
blind fury that he did not note that Q was observing him from an asteroid
not far away. Picard was monitoring the communications between the
various ships, and he was fairly incensed that his brilliant tactic of
releasing the prisoners was being falsely attributed to Q. Suddenly he
leapt to his feet; he had "overheard" a Cardassian order that the warships
were to anticipate the three hour deadline by several minutes and catch
their enemies by surprise. The audacity of what they were sure was a
Starfleet plan to interfere in their internal affairs left the Cardassian
authorities feeling that they had no other choice but to fight. Anything
less would reveal them as weak, unable to govern within their own
territories. They had been humiliated enough in the past; the loss of
Bajor still rankled, and the Maquis were a constant irritation. It was
time to remind the Federation who they were dealing with.
By this point, Picard had lost any capacity for rational thought and
reflection. He was intoxicated with power and still battling to control
the surges of facts, ideas, and possibilities that were sweeping through
his brain. Anger was the only steadying force he had; it gave him a
single and simple purpose, a clear way to make use of his powers.
Instantly he determined to eliminate the entire Cardassian fleet with a
thought. Then he could proceed with his transformation of the Cardassian
culture--these brutes would pose a threat no longer. As far as Picard was
concerned they had tortured their last prisoner and attacked their last
starship. He, Jean-Luc Picard, would see to that.
Q, of course, was reading Picard's mind with continued alarm. He had
finally had enough--the Continuum be damned. He had a vague sense that
the thousands of Cardassian casualties Picard was about to cause should
have more significance for him than a purely theoretical one, but his
principal concern was Picard. He knew that if the Captain actually
executed his plan, it would utterly destroy him, and Q wasn't about to let
that happen. The Continuum could do with him what they pleased. He
launched a bolt of pure energy toward Picard, who wasn't expecting it,
temporarily paralyzing him. Using the time Picard's incapacity bought
him, Q proceeded systematically not only to disable the weapons systems of
all the ships on both sides, but to damage them sufficiently that they
would take days to repair. "//There//," he thought, "//that should give
them time to cool off.//" It was no small feat, even for Q, but he didn't
have time to concentrate on mustering his energies anew; Picard had
recovered, and able to focus coherently on only one thing at a time, he
transferred all his overwhelming rage from the Cardassians onto Q. He
could deal with the Cardassians later, but he had had more than enough of
Q's interference.
Q heard a voice thunder inside his head, "//Q, YOU ARE GOING TO REGRET
THIS. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU.//" Instantly Q felt himself slashed with
sharp pulses of energy like tearing claws.
"//God damned humans!//" he thought as he recovered himself. "//I should
have just let them be exterminated.//" Nimbly, he stepped into another
dimension, manipulating the fabric of space and time so that he was able
to come around behind Picard. Then with a sudden lunge, he yanked his
adversary off balance and transported both of them to the distant planet
where he had made the offer to Picard. He figured the assembled ships had
enough to worry about without a cosmic clash of the titans taking place in
front of them, and he did not want anybody there to become aware of
Picard's presence.
* * *
On the bridge of the Enterprise, Riker was trying to cope with the
magnitude of what La Forge had just informed him. Suddenly, inexplicably,
every weapon system on the ship was inoperative. Geordi had never seen
anything like it. The flow regulators and the plasma distribution
manifolds of each phaser array were fused, the prefire chambers had
collapsed in on themselves, the phaser emitter crystals had dematerialized
altogether, the computer's targeting system was off-line, and the conduits
by which to channel energy to the phasers were blocked as were the photon
torpedo launcher tubes. Q was nothing if not thorough when he put his
mind to it. "Commander," said La Forge in amazement, "this is going to
take days if not weeks to repair."
Data suddenly interjected, "Sensors are reading that all the other ships
in both fleets are similarly disabled. Not one of them has any weapons
capacity remaining."
Soon thereafter, Gul Torval contacted Riker, and both sides agreed to
withdraw, not having any other choice. "There will be repercussions!"
threatened the Cardassian, but for the time being it was an empty threat,
and both sides knew it. The repairs would be so extensive that the ships
would have to use the facilities of a Starbase. Riker was unwilling to
leave without having located the Captain, but he could not leave a
defenseless vessel near the Cardassian border. As he was more and more
convinced that Q was somehow involved, he resigned himself to waiting,
knowing there was nothing he or anyone else on the Enterprise could do.
Wearied and perplexed by recent events, he ordered the ship to the nearest
Starbase for repairs.
* * *
Picard had thought he was furious before, but now he was even more so.
All of his varied humiliations at Q's hands crowded into his memory. All
of the insults and derision Q had launched at him blocked any recollection
of the times Q had been on his side. All he could hear was Q taunting him
for his "puny mind" and describing him as "such a limited creature"; like
a broken record he could hear the mocking voice jeering over and over
again, "You obtuse piece of *flotsam*!" Obtuse and puny no longer, Picard
lashed out. He hurled Q against a massive rock with enough force to take
the equivalent of Q's breath away. As Q remained pinned against the rock,
shaken and dazed, Picard advanced toward him, launching ferocious darts of
energy, each one exploding in Q with a searing pain. Fortunately for
Picard, Q *had* learned to channel and restrain his powers, his prior
history notwithstanding. He had enough force remaining in him to shred
his attacker into sub-atomic particles, and he knew if he didn't get
Picard under control, he might have to so anyway, but despite all the
wrath that consumed him, he remembered that killing Picard was not his
intention.
"OH I'M PUNY AM I? I'M OBTUSE AM I?" demanded Picard as he advanced.
Q returned, "Jean-Luc, you are surpassing all your previous attempts at
pure deranged asininity. I simply had no idea what a primitive brute you
really were under that civilized facade. The mind boggles." His arm
whipped in a blur, and Picard found himself flat on his back several
hundred feet away. He was so driven by rage at Q's mockery, that he
recovered in an instant.
"Listen to me, Q," said Picard in a cold voice utterly devoid of humanity,
a voice that chilled Q to the core, "I am going to destroy you." Q
realized what he'd been denying up until now--Picard was insane. *His*
Jean-Luc was so far buried under this new persona of pure wrath and
vengefulness that he did not know if Picard would ever be himself again.
It didn't matter; Q knew what he had to do. The problem was that his
adversary was driven by a fury so absolute, a fury that increased his
power exponentially, that Q honestly didn't know if he could find a way to
stop him.
Trying to figure out how to defeat Picard without destroying him, Q nimbly
evaded most of the bolts of energy Picard was hurling at him. Every blow
that did land, however, drained him more. And Picard was learning; there
was no point in trying to escape into other dimensions to try to regroup.
Picard would simply follow him; he seemed virtually unstoppable. Suddenly
Q found himself jerked up in the air then smashed so hard into the
planet's surface that he left a crater. Without touching him Picard was
then shaking him like a rag doll, pinning him against the ground, and
sending lightning strikes into Q's battered form. Q had enough mental
capacity left to notice that Picard was keeping a safe distance from him
as he launched his assault. Q thought if he could get close enough he
might be able to take the Captain by surprise. Q lay on the ground in a
crumpled heap; Picard was too confident to try and read his adversary's
mind, and he approached Q, ready to finish him off.
Suddenly Picard found himself immobilized, as a gigantic length of chain
whipped itself around him, pinning his arms to his sides and his legs
together. He was momentarily stunned, but managed, with effort, to break
free of his restraints. It was too late, however. Q was on top of him,
knocking him off balance, jerking his arms behind his back and forcing him
down on his knees. Q's grasp was unshakeable, no matter how much Picard
struggled. He had used up a good deal of energy escaping from the chains
Q had conjured up, and now every move he tried to make was deterred by the
iron hands which grasped his wrists and neck. His mind practically boiled
over with frustration. He heard a voice intone, "That's it, Picard. It's
over. You will surrender the powers back to me NOW!" Picard made one
more futile attempt to wrench himself out of Q's grasp, but Q had finally
mustered all his stores of determination. He said in a gentler voice,
"Jean-Luc, I know you're in there somewhere. This is all wrong, and you
know it. Give up the powers. It will be a lot more painful to you if I
have to take them from you by force." Wordlessly Picard slumped on the
ground, somehow knowing how to release the powers which had so transformed
him. He relaxed his mind, his hands opened slightly, and he was human
once again.
Q didn't waste any time. Picard was a mess, his mind a fluctuating chaos
of memories, thoughts, and surging emotions, and his identity was
unstable, shattered into fragments by the sudden withdrawal of the
all-powerful monster he had become. Q didn't know if much of the original
Picard was left, but he sat down against a rock, gathered the unconscious
Captain into his arms, and began probing through his brain, trying to
rebuild the layers of Picard's consciousness, reassembling memories,
sensations, feelings, thoughts, and beliefs, trying to reconstruct some
identity Picard would recognize as himself. "Come on, Jean-Luc," Q
murmured, brushing his lips against Picard's forehead, "I didn't go
through all that to lose you like this." For hours, he quietly sat,
cradling his patient and using his telepathic powers to put Picard's
shattered self back together, to restore him to some vestige of who he was
before he accepted Q's offer. Finally satisfied with the results, Q
arranged Picard's still unconscious body in a resting position on the
ground, and withdrew several feet away to go about the business of
recovering himself.
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 3 (2/2)
Date: Mon, 07 Aug 1995 21:47:09 -0800
Message-ID:
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 3, Part 2
* * *
Picard's head was reeling in a particularly sickening way. As he slowly
regained consciousness, he had tried to get up, but collapsed, nauseous,
exhausted, and dizzy. All he wanted to do was crawl into a hole somewhere
and rest . . . for a few weeks at least. He was too overcome even to
speak, but it was obvious he was in no condition to be traipsing around
the galaxy. Q was pitiless, however; while Picard had lay unconscious,
his own anger at both Picard and at his superiors had been building back
up almost beyond the point of self-control. His compassion was used up,
and he knew exactly what he had to do. His face was grim and utterly
determined, he looked taller and inhumanly rigid, and his eyes flashed
with a preternatural light. He was controlled fury incarnate; Q's
flippant demeanor was a dim memory. When he spoke, his voice echoed, "Now
that you're awake, we have a little journey to make, Picard." He yanked
the Captain up by the arm, and they disappeared off the planet's surface
in a blinding flash.
An even more blinding flash announced their arrival at their destination.
It was like nothing Picard had ever seen, and he was even more dizzied by
the sight. He rested on a kind of platform overlooking what appeared to
be a gigantic lake in space composed of white and silver light eternally
flowing in swirls and ripples. All around the lake Picard could barely
discern amorphous figures on similar platforms; it was as if their form
kept changing, undulating with the rhythm of the swirling lake, and his
attempt to get a fix on them so overwhelmed his senses that he lost
consciousness, only to find himself instantly awakened and forced into a
sitting position. His own muscles were incapable of supporting him; he
knew it was Q that was holding him up. Even though every fiber of his
being was tending toward unconsciousness, he intuited somehow that Q was
also keeping him awake and aware of the proceedings, although Q did not
appear to be paying him the least bit of attention.
Retaining his adopted human form, but somehow appearing much larger, Q
addressed the beings grouped around the lake. Picard realized that this
was the Q Continuum, or at least one form it took, and he could barely
breathe the air Q was, as a matter of course, providing him. When Q
spoke, his voice resonated across the lake, his hands were gripped tightly
into fists, and his entire being emanated fury and power. Picard was
terrified; he had never seen Q in such a towering rage and realized that
his clenched fists indicated a mind-boggling amount of self-control.
Q spoke: "I have had enough, and this is my ultimatum. I am demanding
that the Continuum cease altogether from trying and testing this human. I
will refuse to cooperate in any more experiments that put him and his
fellows in danger, and furthermore, I will do everything in my power to
prevent any of you from doing so. If you have any intention of
interfering with him or other humans again, you will have to destroy me
first and be thorough about it, because any atom of consciousness I have
remaining will be directed toward thwarting you. I will not allow any
further trials of humankind. They will continue to evolve as they have
been. We cannot continue to interfere in their development. We do not
have the right to continue to put them in danger of destroying themselves
and others. They may try our patience, but we are going to have to
tolerate their inadequacies for a long time to come. They even have a few
valuable qualities we lack, and if anything, we should try to learn what
we can from them, instead of forcing them to try conform to our
preconceptions. This human is neither a toy for our amusement nor an
insect for us to examine. He may not have our capacities, but he is
conscious, he is aware, and he has suffered from our interference and
manipulation. I will not allow that to happen again. Not only am I
demanding that we cease to interfere with this human and his species, but
I am also declaring my intention to extend my protection to him for the
duration of his natural lifetime and to any vessel he may command." There
was just the slightest twinge of the old Q sarcasm in his echoing voice,
as he concluded, "I await your answer."
Q continued to stand, legs apart, arms folded, continuing at the same time
to maintain Picard in a sitting position and to keep him conscious. It
was absolutely silent; Picard knew that the debate was being carried on
telepathically. Although he had no empathic abilities himself, he could
sense a rising tension; the lake vibrated with the conflict. Q simply
followed the discussion, his eyes flickering back and forth as he listened
to the silent debate; he had nothing more to add. Picard could also sense
that Q was continuing to muster a heroic self-control; he sensed that on
the one hand the entity was trying to restrain himself from vaporizing the
entire quadrant, and on the other hand, he was trying to battle down a
mounting fear. Picard knew nothing about he workings of the Q Continuum,
but from his knowledge of previous penalties they had imposed on Q, he
guessed they were unlikely to be charmed with this challenge to their
authority. His head began to throb ferociously along with the rest of his
body; the combination of the suspense and the overwhelming magnitude of
what he was observing were close to unbearable. Q remained pitiless,
however; presumably he could have alleviated some of Picard's suffering,
but he wasn't interested. He simply wanted the Captain awake and aware of
what was going on, and he wanted him sitting up, so that the object of his
ultimatum to the Continuum was not simply lying in a heap. In his
exhaustion and suffering from sensory overload, Picard was about to begin
to weep, when a voice inside his head resonated, "//Don't you dare, not
here. Get a grip--think about how much *worse* I could make you feel.//"
Picard was distracted from his agony by a flash and the arrival of what
appeared to be a human male with blond hair tumbling over his forehead.
He knew of course, it was another Q, taking human form for his benefit.
The newcomer spoke, "Well, well, well, that was *quite* a speech, Q. Did
you rehearse it on the way over here? You could have scavenged what's
left of your Captain's mind here and at least gotten a few Shakespearean
passages to spice it up."
Without moving, Q slammed his colleague hard against the floor of the
platform. "I'm not playing games now, Q. And I don't appreciate having
the final deliberations closed off to me. I believe I'm still a full
member here."
The second Q got up, brushed himself off, and snapped, "We locked you out
because we knew how you would react to anyone who spoke against you. No
one here wants to be the target of one of *your* grudges. As it is, you
won--with concessions. We will no longer test human beings or put them on
trial or interfere with their development, and we will not prevent you
from extending your protection to whoever you want as long as you don't
give them an undue capacity to destroy whomever they happen to be
quarrelling with at the moment."
"I believe it was you who insisted on giving a human that capacity
recently, not I. I said I would protect them; I won't actively interfere
otherwise. What are your conditions?"
"Well, it seems that this is a species with a remarkable lack of
self-control. They apparently need to be monitored. We will not
interfere, but we want to be kept informed about their development. If
any of them start wreaking havoc in the future, we will consider them to
be your responsibility, so you'd better see to it that they acquire some
restraint and some awareness as they evolve. If this," he gestured toward
Picard, "is the most advanced specimen you could come up with, and he came
as close as he did to destroying an entire culture, then they're sorely in
need of some guidance. And guess what, Q? You're the expert on their
little species--they're *all* yours. I have to admit, though, they are
fairly interesting as inferior species go--I'll be looking forward to your
reports. Farewell, Q. I hope you find your new charges sufficiently
entertaining."
The second Q disappeared. Q was still seething. He felt a tremendous
amount of relief, of course, that the Continuum had accepted his ultimatum
instead of vaporizing him, but he was still furious with Picard for having
put him in this position in the first place. He again yanked Picard's
arm, snapping, "Let's go. I'm not through with *you* yet."
* * *
On board the Enterprise, which was now approaching Starbase 329, Riker
turned the bridge over to Data and headed to Ten-Forward in search of
Guinan. He found her behind the bar, looking distracted and troubled.
"Can we talk privately?" he asked. Guinan nodded, beckoned to one of her
assistants, then led Riker to her office. "What's going on, Guinan?
Where's the Captain?"
She sighed, "He's with Q. That's all I can tell you."
"Do you think he's all right?"
"I certainly hope so, Commander."
* * *
In an absolute fury Q returned himself and Picard back to the planet. The
strain of the past several hours was too much for him, and he completely
lost control. He raged, "You're lucky I don't rip every organ out of your
body one at a time over and over again for the next century! The last
thing I needed was another humiliation before the Continuum!"
Picard was visibly sagging, despite Q mentally holding him up. Q yanked
him up by the front of his uniform, so that his face was on a level with
Q's and his toes were dragging on the ground. He would have been dismayed
at his helplessness, but at this point, he was almost numb. Q gave Picard
a shake, demanding, "Look at me! Do you have *any* idea, you witless,
thick-headed, barbaric, presumptuous *Neanderthal*, how close I came to
having to *kill* you? Do you have *any* idea what that would have done to
me? DO YOU?" With every repetition of "Do you," Q gave Picard a violent
shake. He then exclaimed, "If I don't make you suffer, I'm going to
*explode*!"
Q was about to ignite every nerve of Picard's body, but miraculously, he
stopped himself. His wrath needed an outlet, however. While he was still
holding Picard up with one hand, his other arm flashed, and Picard beheld
a massive firestorm begin to devour the landcape around him. Trees went
up like torches, then crumbled, boulders exploded, and the ground
scorched. Picard and Q were standing in the eye of a fiery hurricane; the
flames didn't reach them, but were whirling around outside the immediate
area where they stood. As the flames raged, lightning crackled across the
sky, flashing through the enormous pall of black smoke. Picard hardly
dared to look at Q, but noticed that the entity actually seemed to be
relaxing, growing calmer. Then, as suddenly as the firestorm started, it
stopped. The smoke cleared, the lightning dwindled away, and the
landscape was restored to its original condition. Q turned to Picard and
remarked casually, "You know, Jean-Luc, you're lucky I have more
self-control than you give me credit for. I almost did that to *you*."
With a groan of disgust, Q lightly tossed Picard about ten feet away, as
easily as one would toss a rag doll into a toy box, then finally relaxed
his hold on Picard's consciousness, mercifully allowing the Captain to
pass out.
When he regained consciousness, Picard forced himself into a sitting
position and put his head in his hands. He was utterly shocked at the
amount of destruction he had been about to cause, and he was still reeling
from the experience he had just had, although his memories of it were
incoherent and confused. His body ached in every nerve, his head was
throbbing, and his entire self-image was crumbling. Q, meanwhile, was
trying to get a grip on himself. He had used a tremendous portion of his
mental energies to subdue Picard and to confront the Continuum, and he
hadn't been sure he was going to be able to do either without seriously
harming the person who meant the most to him or being destroyed himself in
the process. When he had recovered a little of his composure, he noticed
Picard in an attitude of absolute despair. At this point, sympathy was
not uppermost in Q's mind, although a good deal of his fury had abated
after he had vented it with his display of pyrotechnics. Q had regained
his self-control, but Picard's refusal to listen to him when he made the
offer in the first place still ticked him off. And guerrilla
psychotherapy had always been his preferred method of dealing with the
vagaries of human behavior; empathetic and nonjudgmental listening were
not part of Q's repertoire.
"Oh, mon Capitaine," he said in a deceptively alluring voice, "or should I
perhaps call you my fallen God? Whatever it is, I TOLD YOU SO! I know
you better than you know yourself, with your high ethics and moral
principles. Aside from the fact that you nearly demolished an entire
Cardassian fleet, you were about to rearrange the entire Cardassian
culture according to your own ideals. So much for your holy Prime
Directive. If anything just proved to us that we need to keep a close eye
on you, you just did it. Congratulations--you've earned yourself the
exalted position of being a species permanently in need of our
supervision."
Q slowed his tirade long enough to notice that Picard was weeping.
"Please Q," he said in the most trembling voice Q had ever heard him use,
"please. I know I deserve the lecture; you were 100% right, and I was
completely, totally, utterly wrong. But I can't stand being berated right
now. I don't even recognize myself. I don't understand how I could have
gone so wrong."
"You're a human, Jean-Luc Picard. You are not a god. You are not capable
of handling the powers of a god. You've always wanted to rearrange the
galaxy in your own image; there's a good reason you haven't gained the
capability to do so. If your species is going to evolve, it's going to be
through gradual development; I've *finally* learned that even if the rest
of my colleagues haven't. Trying to push you along faster than you're
ready for is a mistake, but you, if anyone, ought to have known how
tempting power was going to be to you. Or if you didn't know, you ought
to have listened to me. You know, it's pretty damned frustrating to know
everything, and no one listens to me. You ought to have learned to trust
me by now; haven't I shown you that I have your best interests at heart,
even if they contradict the wishes of the Continuum? Didn't I help you
ensure the survival of your entire *miserable* species? And this is how
you repay me? You just had to go follow the whims of your massive ego,
which so far overreaches your capabilities and your capacity for
self-control that it boggles the mind. And you thought you would do
better than Riker did--that's a joke. He wouldn't have come close to
conceiving the type of damage you were about to cause. Your species is
admirable in its ambition and drive, I'll admit, and you in particular
have an energy and will that we in the Continuum lack. But that's a good
thing because that kind of energy combined with unlimited power is a
recipe for trouble. I knew you would not be able to restrain your worst
impulses and your narrow way of seeing things.
To us, the conflict between the Federation and the Cardassians is just
another minor skirmish in the history of the galaxy, two more groups of
humanoids who are too foolish to perceive the ways in which they are alike
and have interests in common. You, for all your ethical principles, still
perceive things in black and white terms; the Cardassians were the enemy,
and all of a sudden you had the power to do something about it. You may
have been nearly omnipotent, but I didn't notice any great leaps of
insight on your part. While your pitiful species does have a few virtues,
the sudden acquisition of unlimited power would be too much for any human
to take; even Ghandi would have probably exterminated the British. You're
still too much the slaves of your worst impulses; fortunately your
*extremely* limited abilities prevent you from doing too much damage, even
though you nearly destroyed your own planet through wars and environmental
devastation. You may have become slightly more enlightened in the past
century or two, but you have a GOD DAMNED LONG WAY TO GO, and the only
thing that really keeps you and other humanoid species from destroying the
galaxy is that you keep each other in check. You were a lot more sensible
when we first met, and you were defending what your species had
accomplished up to now; I thought you were giving yourselves far too much
credit, but at least you weren't overreaching. Save lives! Benefit
humanity! Spread peace and goodness throughout the universe, my
derriere! The thing that *really* gets me, the thing that utterly
infuriates me, is that you accepted a challenge you knew you weren't ready
for out of a petty, perverse, childish desire to prove me wrong. If I
were you, Jean-Luc Picard, I WOULDN'T TRY THAT AGAIN."
Picard continued to weep, but he heard and absorbed every word. "Q, I'm
thoroughly and completely humiliated, I'm horrified at what I almost did,
and I'm infinitely grateful for your intervention. You're absolutely
right in your analysis of my motives, for which I'm deeply ashamed, and I
deserve every word of your tongue-lashing and more, but," and here the
sobs escalated, "what I really need is your compassion now, not your
anger. There are no words to express my sorrow for what I've done, but I
am sorry for not listening to you. But, please, I need your help to get
through this; I don't know how to do it on my own!"
Q's anger dissipated immediately at this confession. He sat down next to
Picard and put his arm around the Captain's shoulders and let him cry
uninterruptedly for several minutes. Finally, he said in a much gentler
tone, "Jean-Luc, Jean-Luc, you're going to get through this. You're the
strongest human I know. You made a huge mistake, but there's been no
permanent damage done fortunately," he smiled wryly, "so consider it a
learning experience."
Picard had calmed down somewhat, but what Q said brought him up short:
"You said 'fortunately.' Was it possible that you might not have been
able to stop me?"
"Oh yes, it was, Captain. When you have two powerful minds in combat with
each other, usually the one with the most drive and motivation behind it
wins, the one who sees victory more clearly. It's not a matter of
physical ability, but rather mental energy. You were pretty damned
determined, and I'm really not used to exerting myself that much; we don't
have too much mortal combat going on in the Continuum. I mean, I probably
could have simply destroyed you, literally ripped you apart to the
molecular level, but you would have been extremely difficult to
reassemble, and I kind of like having you around. So given the fact that
I was trying to ensure your survival, I had to be a little circumspect in
trying to restrain you. But these were the possible outcomes if I hadn't
succeeded when I did: either you would have destroyed me or I you. I
couldn't let you go on the way you were."
Picard looked even more pale and stunned than before. "How reassuring. I
was trying to kill you, wasn't I? And you were just trying to help me.
Q, I don't know what to say."
"How about 'thank-you for preventing me from destroying the galaxy and not
killing me in the process, Q'? That should do nicely."
"Thank you, Q. I don't see how I can ever repay you, but you have both my
gratitude and my repentence."
"Well, look, Jean-Luc, I have one more thing to say. You really terrified
me in a way that I have never been terrified. It's not a feeling that
agrees with me. And, if you *ever* frighten me like that again, or if you
ever disregard my advice when it's for your own good, I'll have to . . .
I'll just have to . . . *spank* you until you come to your senses. You
think I'm kidding, but I'm not."
Q's half-joking threat had the desired effect, and Picard was beginning to
recover his equanimity. "Well, Q, I will make a point of *not* affording
you that opportunity." ("//Too bad//," thought Q to himself.) "And
thank-you, I do feel better," continued Picard, "although I don't think
Counselor Troi would approve of your methods." He sighed, "I have never
been made quite so aware of how fallible I am. It's going to be a
difficult adjustment for me, but it looks like I'm going to have to defer
to your judgment for a while."
"Precisely," replied the entity. He suddenly leaned forward, placing his
lips immediately next to Picard's ear, declaring in his most threatening
manner, "And by the way, you'd better get *used* to having me around,
because I'm going to be keeping a *very* close eye on you. Apparently
keeping you out of trouble is a full-time job."
"And would you like quarters prepared on board the Enterprise?" snapped
Picard, trying to cover for the unease Q inevitably provoked in him with
his insistent intrustions into Picard's personal space. Having such a
powerful being at such close range was tremendously unsettling, but Picard
hated to let his discomfort show.
"As a matter of fact, yes. Actually, Jean-Luc," replied Q with his most
insinuating tone, "I'd prefer to share yours, but I'll gladly accept the
most spartan of available spaces. I can always redecorate."
Picard looked at Q. "You really mean it? You're planning on staying on
the Enterprise?"
"Well, I don't expect to be there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I'm sure
I'll take plenty of side-trips, use my frequent flier miles. But, yes, I
am inviting myself on board your ship as a sort of semi-permanent
observer, with the intent of facilitating comprehension and communication
between my people and yours--there, that should sound good in a Starfleet
report. It *is* part of your mission after all. I will give you my
personal guarantee that I will not do anything to harm you or your crew,
nor will I deliberately expose you to any danger. And the Continuum,
while they promised not to interfere with you any more, made it very clear
to me that I'm responsible for your pesky little species now. I'm
supposed to supervise you rigorously, or some damn thing."
"Why do you really want to do this?"
"I've told you many times before, Jean-Luc: even if you are a human,
you're my closest friend in the galaxy. Almost losing you made me see
even more clearly how important you are to me." Q's tone grew instantly
harder, "And, as I said, you need someone to keep an eye on you."
"Q, I'm touched," said Picard drily, " but I'll have to think about this."
"It's not as though you have much choice," responded Q airily, "I'm
omnipotent, remember? And you, thank God, *aren't* any longer. Shall we
go visit my new home?"
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 4, Part 1
Date: Tue, 08 Aug 1995 19:56:07 -0800
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 4, Part 1
In a flash, Q and Picard materialized in the Captain's ready room.
Picard was sitting in his chair trying to reassert his authority and his
sense of himself, while Q sprawled comfortably on the couch. Returning to
the ship made them both fall back into their familiar patterns of
interaction; neither one was comfortable with wrenching emotions of the
experience they had just shared.
"Just a minute, please, Q," said Picard, "I'd better let them know I'm here."
"I have all the time in the universe, remember?" said Q lazily, draping
one leg along the top of the couch. As Picard walked out, Q perused
Picard's Shakespeare volume, remembering ruefully, although not without
regret, that he had once thrown it at him. Picard had good reflexes,
however, and had caught it undamaged. "//Ugh//," he thought to himself,
"//I really blew it that time. And a good thing too. Imagine Riker as a
member of the Continuum! No, I can't. What a revolting prospect.//"
Picard emerged from his ready room and was instantly surrounded by the
bridge crew besieging him with questions. He waved them off wearily, and
said, "I'm fine, really. I need some time though. Number One, you have
the bridge for a while longer."
Riker said, "Captain, I think you should be escorted to sick bay."
"No, Will; I'll go let Beverly take a look at me in a little while. Right
now, I need not to be disturbed." And Picard returned to his waiting
companion. He felt a compelling urge to cover his own humiliation by
asserting his authority.
As the doors slid shut, he declared, "Listen Q, omnipotent or not, if
you're going to stay on this ship you have to abide by certain
conditions."
"Yes, Captain."
"First of all, you have to respect others' privacy. You can't just keep
materializing in people's rooms. Try announcing your entrance first.
There's a device known as a door chime."
"Yes, Captain."
"You have to make an effort to be civil to and respect the members of the
crew. You may be omnipotent, but you are not a Starfleet officer, and you
can't simply take over and start ordering people around."
"Yes, Captain."
"You can't go around playing your little tricks on people and disrupting
the ship. My crew is here because they have jobs to do. If you want to
show off, you may do so when your intended audience is on their own time,
and only with their permission."
"Yes, Captain. I do so love it when you speak sternly to me."
"You have to . . . Q! I hate it when you lie there acting as if you're
not listening to me."
"Would this be an improvement?" Q was lying in the identical position,
but suspended two feet above the couch.
"Q, your parlor tricks . . . "
"Amuse the hell out of you, but you hate to admit it." Q sat down on
couch, looking attentive, and Picard couldn't repress a quick grin.
"Please continue, Captain."
"Fine. You have to realize that I am the Captain. I can't have you
undermining my authority on my ship and questioning my decisions. Nor can
I have you simply taking over when you think we're doing something the
wrong way. Humans learn from their mistakes, as I am in the process of
doing right now, and you have to allow us to make them."
"Yes Captain, I will obey your every command, and I will defer most
respectfully to your *august* authority." Q's voice then took on a
serious edge. "But I have two conditions of my own. One, if I ever
perceive you and this ship being in a life-threatening situation, and I
perceive that that situation is beyond you and your crew's ability to
handle it, I am going to step in, and I'm going to take over. I don't
think mistakes have a whole lot of educational value if you're too dead to
learn from them."
"Understood," noted Picard. "I would ask that you give us every
opportunity to try to solve whatever the problem is ourselves, but if it's
clear that we cannot, then feel free to give us the benefit of your
powers. What's your other condition?"
"Honesty. I want you to be honest with me, Picard. The most advanced
Betazoid's telepathic powers are nothing compared to mine. Not only can
I read your mind and your feelings, but I can read every layer of your
mind, conscious, subconscious, unconscious, repressed, whatever. I have
access to every memory of everything that has ever happened to you and
everything you have ever thought or felt. I can explain to you motives
for actions you've taken that you're not even remotely aware of on a
conscious level. I can replay what you were aware of in the womb after
you became at all sentient. I can read you from the inside out and all
the way through. In fact, I *rebuilt* your mind for you after you
surrendered the powers back; you wouldn't *believe* what abysmal shape you
were in. I know you better than anybody else does, including yourself. I
will make a real effort to respect your privacy, difficult as that may be
for me, but when I see you playing games with me, I'm going to call you on
it. For instance, at the moment, you're trying to convince me that you're
barely tolerating my presence on 'your ship.' You're trying to make me
think that if I screw up at all, you're going to demand my departure. But
inside, inside, Jean-Luc, you are overjoyed to have me here, not to
mention grateful that I saved you from your own worst impulses. How
about, 'Welcome aboard, Q. Make yourself at home'?"
"I figured you'd do so whether I said so or not," replied Picard, who was
feeling more than a little disconcerted at Q's description of his
telepathic capabilities and didn't know what to make of Q's claims about
putting him back together.
"All I'm saying, Jean-Luc, is that I would appreciate it if, when we're
alone at least, you stop being such a stiff, when you and both I know you
genuinely enjoy my company and the diversion I provide. Remember when I
took you back into your own past? You had a fine time confiding in me
about your youthful misadventures. I used to think you lacked a sense of
humor, but what I've realized is that you just repress it most of the
time. The stern schoolmaster routine doesn't go over well, Jean-Luc; it
just brings out the worst in me. I'd rather I *didn't* have to invade
your mind to find out that you're glad to see me; I'd like to hear it once
in a while. Just remember, you can't fool me, so don't try.""You're
right, Q, I'm sorry, but I think we've both fallen into patterns of how we
react to each other from our first meetings. You must realize that the
crew will only accept your presence here if they feel like I'm keeping you
in line, and even though we both know I have no way of actually doing so,
I'd appreciate it if you'd help me sustain the illusion. In turn, I will
try to relax my demeanor in private."
"It's a deal. My *public* behavior will be exemplary."
"Well, don't be offended if I say I'll believe it when I see it, but . . .
Q, I really am happy to have you here. I don't know how I can ever
express my gratitude for all you've done for me, but you've proved
yourself a true friend, and you're right that I do find you a most
entertaining companion, even if it's often against my better judgment.
Welcome aboard the Enterprise."
"Thank-you, Captain. I feel *most* honored to be here. By the way, you
should know that I have established a permanent telepathic link with you.
That way, even if I'm not around, I'll know immediately if you decide to
go wreaking havoc through the galaxy again. The bad news, for you, is
that I can read your mind even if I'm on the other side of the galaxy."
Picard went slightly pale at this reminder of Q's telepathic ability.
"The good news is," the entity continued brightly, "that if you ever need
me, you can just summon me in your mind, and I'll be back, literally, in a
flash."
Picard responded thoughtfully, "Why is it, Q, that whenever you tell me
something designed to be reassuring, you always have to include
information that is unsettling, to say the least?"
"Well, mon Capitaine, I don't want you to take my newly-acquired virtue
for granted. For all my good intentions, there are some temptations I'm
simply unable to resist. Self-discipline has never been my strong point."
"Q, you agreed . . . "
"I agreed not to undermine your authority in front of the crew except in
life-threatening situations that are out of your control. I meant that.
But that doesn't mean I'm never going to give you a hard time. I like
giving you a hard time--it's *so* satisfying, and the results are always
*so* entertaining. But if I do, I promise it will be in a way that no one
else is aware of it. //For instance, we can carry on entire conversations
without opening our mouths.//" Q had stopped speaking aloud, but Picard
heard every word clearly, in Q's voice, inside his head. "//You can
answer me the same way.//"
Picard thought back his response, "//I have no idea how this is going to
turn out, but I do know one thing. Having you on board the Enterprise
certainly won't be boring.//"
"//I'll make sure of that, Picard. Now would you like to show me my
quarters? I know you have work to do, and I'm going to be kind enough to
let you get back to it.//"
"Work, hell," said Picard out loud, "I need a drink and some time to
myself. You understand, don't you?"
"Of course. Tough day at the office. I understand."
* * *
After showing Q to his new quarters, Picard had returned to his own.
Collapsing with more than usual lassitude into an armchair, Picard felt
himself enveloped in a rising panic. He was horrified at what he had
almost done, but he was more urgently beset with a sudden terror at the
notion of having Q remain on board the Enterprise. It was clear enough
that Q had been trying to help him; their visit to the Continuum confirmed
Picard's dawning realization ever since Q had saved his life that Q really
did have some concern for him and was willling, as he now had on two
occasions, to intervene between Picard and his less humane superiors. But
at the same time, Picard could not forget that Q was an unpredictable,
capricious, and volatile being with a ferocious temper and very little
tolerance for human frailties. Promises of good behavior notwithstanding,
there was no telling what he might do if sufficiently provoked. "//I have
to trust him not to harm me or anyone else//," thought Picard. "//There's
absolutely nothing I can do about it, other than asking, very politely,
for him to leave.//" Picard's discomfort was further exacerbated by the
realization that he really did *not* want Q to leave. He was feeling
uncharacteristically unsure of himself, and Q, surprised as Picard was to
admit it, seemed to offer a kind of support and reassurance Picard could
not get anywhere else. No one else on board would have any real
understanding of what he had gone though, except, perhaps, Riker, but
Riker had not been granted anywhere near the power Picard had wielded.
Picard's feeling of dependence on Q frightened him further. Q's presence
on the ship would be a constant reminder of his own inadequacies.
Normally he felt secure enough in his own abilities and in his faith in
human progress to defy Q's derision and misanthropy. But now he was
overwhelmed by the conviction that Q may have been right after all.
Picard jumped up and began to pace; usually, even in emotional distress,
he was much more contained, but his feelings about Q were in such conflict
that his anxiety needed an outlet. Suddenly, he stopped pacing, having
been brought up short by the realization that Q could have been following
this entire internal debate. Picard recalled that his anxiety had started
to rise when Q had described his mind-reading abilities. *That* was what
he was really worried about. Any damage Q might cause if he lost his
temper Q could as easily repair, but the thought of the total lack of
privacy Picard was now subject to horrified him. At any moment, Q might
be reading his mind, probing his thoughts, unearthing his self-doubt, his
insecurity, his areas of vulnerability. Most of the time he could repress
undesirable emotions; Picard was an extremely disciplined individual. But
Q would have access to everything he was thinking or feeling, even what he
needed to push to the back of his mind. This thought was initially
terrifying to Picard. He felt the knot of panic in his chest begin to
tighten even more.
But part of Picard's self-discipline was the capacity to force himself to
deal with whatever he couldn't change. He remembered that Q did not need
to be on the Enterprise to read his mind; therefore, Q had probably
already probed him on any number of occasions without him knowing it.
Picard couldn't see any reason to believe that Q had used that knowledge
against him. And Q had promised to try, at least, to respect his
privacy. Picard sighed. He had the ability to see multiple sides of most
issues, and it occurred to him that this particular power of Q's had the
potential to be fairly liberating for him. Even with Beverly, Picard
could rarely entirely relax and be himself. His own natural reserve and
his position as Captain necessitated that he keep a certain amount of
distance from his crew, even those he felt closest to. He had to be able
to wield his authority, to give orders and expect they would be obeyed,
regardless of the feelings of the crew member about those orders or any
personal relationship. Since Q was, by definition, a being he could not
begin to control at all, there was no need to maintain the reserve and
distance his command required. And as Q apparently already knew him
inside out, he had nothing to lose. "//Well//," he thought to himself, in
a mood of resigned determination, "//since I have no way of getting rid of
Q, and I can't do anything about his powers, I might as well make the best
of it.//"
Suddenly a voice in his head startled him. "//Very good, Jean-Luc.
You've just learned the first lesson about dealing with me. Have the
grace to accept what you can't do anything about and make the most of what
I can offer you.//"
"//And there's another lesson, too!//" snapped Picard in reply.
"//What's that?//"
"//You have absolutely no manners!//"
"//I do so! I just have horrendous manners//," retorted Q, but genially.
"//I really will try to keep out of matters that don't pertain to me, but
it's impossible for me not to read your mind when I know you're thinking
about me. That's just inevitable, Jean-Luc.//"
"Wonderful," muttered Picard, but he couldn't help smiling to himself.
Almost as much as his self-discipline, Picard's sense of humor, although
often kept under wraps, was his saving grace. The absurdity of trying to
deal with as powerful and as unpredictable and as alien a being as Q on a
daily basis struck his fancy. It wouldn't be easy, but it was bound to be
educational, if nothing else. Feeling reconciled, for the time being at
least, to the presence of his omnipotent visitor, Picard moved to his
terminal in order to inform Starfleet of this development.
* * *
Despite his undeveloped sense of empathy, even Q could figure out that
Picard was going to need some time to absorb the events of the day and get
back to the business of running his ship and being an ordinary mortal
again. He spent several hours decorating and redecorating his quarters,
selecting and rejecting furniture from a variety of time periods, styles,
and civilizations. When he was finally satisfied with the result, he
proceeded to the next order of business--creating a suitable wardrobe
befitting a visiting dignitary ("//That'll be the day//," he thought to
himself) from the Q Continuum. Q really was anxious to give Picard some
evidence of his good intentions, and he decided to stop wearing the
Starfleet uniform that irritated the Captain so much. As far as Q was
concerned, he *had* earned it; after all he had more knowledge and ability
than every Starfleet officer put together, but it seemed a minor
concession to make. Q's taste in clothes was like his taste in
furniture--not excessively ostentatious or flamboyant, but designed to
attract notice. He dressed in an eye-catching purple and black ensemble,
then he had to turn to the serious business of figuring out what he would
do with himself when the Enterprise was not engaged in some sort of
entertaining adventure and when Picard was not available to amuse him.
Outside of Picard, Q was most intrigued by Data. The incongruity of the
android's clear superiority and his intense desire to be more human was
puzzling to Q, and anyway, Data was the only one who could come close to
matching a portion of Q's knowledge. He resolved to cultivate Data as a
friend, particularly as he knew Data was less likely than the other crew
members to prejudge him or judge him based on his earlier actions. But
meanwhile, he thought he had better not go announcing his presence to Data
or anyone else until Picard was ready.
He decided to see if any of the games and challenges in the computer could
possibly be any match for him if he didn't use his powers, but limited
himself to the human form he had adopted. Even so, he had created himself
in an ideal form, his reflexes were perfect, and his intelligence was
awesome. He slaughtered the computer at the highest level of every game
he tried. "//Bor-ing//," thought Q to himself, "//maybe I'll try some of
the fencing and martial arts programs on the holodeck one of these
days.//"
He had cast himself on the bed, in a position of utter boredom and
lassitude, when the door chimed. It was Picard. "I'm sorry, Q, I didn't
mean to keep you a prisoner in here, although I must say I'm really
impressed with what you've done with the place."
"Interior decorating is a hobby of mine. It's good to see you, Captain.
I didn't think you'd want me wandering around the ship, having touching
reunions with my old chums, before you had a chance to think of how you
were going to inform your crew about your change of heart. They're bound
to be a little puzzled given your previous reluctance to welcome me as a
long-term guest."
"No doubt. I've called a meeting of my senior staff, and I would, of
course, like you to be there. By the way, Q, what happened to the
uniform?"
"I got the distinct impression that you never liked me wearing a Starfleet
uniform, and I also thought it might smooth my relations with your crew a
little if I didn't wear it. You humans are so touchy about things like
uniforms and rank and all such trivia." Q was just about incapable of
making a considerate gesture without relapsing into his usual sarcastic
mode. Taking into account how others felt was pretty new to him, and he
didn't want to be accused of going soft.
"Thank-you, Q," said Picard, "that was very considerate of you. I
appreciate your making concessions to our fragile human egos."
Both men smiled; this type of banter was already growing natural to them.
And Picard understood perfectly well that Q prided himself on his
incorrigibility, his defiance of authority, and his insistence that he was
a law unto himself. Instead of his usual mode of deriding human
inferiority and making grandiose displays of his powers, Q was, instead,
going to have publicly to submit to Picard's authority and make an effort
to generate goodwill among a group of people who were bound to resent his
presence. Given the image he'd been projecting of himself so far, it was
understandable that Q would be embarrassed about making concessions to a
species he had previously treated with utter contempt, and it was
understandable that he would try to cover that embarrassment with
sarcasm. As far as Picard was concerned, Q could be as sarcastic as he
liked as long as he didn't interfere with his running of the ship.
"Your amateur psychologizing is getting a little annoying, Picard,"
snapped Q, who had been unable to resist reading the Captain's mind,
particularly as he knew he was the subject of Picard's ruminations. "You
can't possibly begin to account for my feelings and motivations, so don't
try. And if you could, you be overwhelmed by what you'd find out. If
you're thinking of taking up counseling, I'd suggest you don't quit your
day job."
Picard couldn't help smiling. Q's embarrassment and discomfiture were so
utterly plain that they were written all over him. "Listen, my friend,"
he said, "I really appreciate what you're trying to do. I don't exactly
understand why you're making this effort to accomodate yourself to us, but
it does mean a lot to me."
As they walked out the door, Q announced grandly, "Aprés vous, mon
Capitaine," and touched Picard lightly on the arm. Picard took in his
breath sharply, then hastily tried to act as though nothing had happened.
"//Gotcha, mon Capitaine//," thought Q to himself.
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap 4, Part 2
Date: Tue, 08 Aug 1995 20:03:57 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 4, Part 2
Q really was anxious to please Picard, although he was not at all ready to
admit how anxious, and he really did want to make as easy as possible for
the Captain to handle his advent on the Enterprise. To that end, he was
willing to humble himself, to make proofs of his sincerity, such as
shedding the offending Starfleet uniform, but he had no intention of
humiliating himself. He might make concessions to these humans, and he
might restrain his behavior, but he wasn't going to let them forget who he
was either. For Q, to be taken for granted was death. He wanted to able
to electrify a room every time he entered, and to do so, he had to convey
a certain aura of danger and unpredictability even when behaving like a
model citizen.
He definitely hadn't appreciated Picard trying to analyze his behavior
though. Q much preferred to be the one in control, and it perfectly
suited him that he should be able to read Picard's mind without being read
in return. Picard's ability to pinpoint his emotional confusion was
annoying. There was nothing Q hated worse than being patronized, even
indulgently. He restored his own equanimity, quickly, however, by
reminding himself that even if Picard was getting some insight into his
behavior and emotions, his own ability to penetrate every recess of
Picard's mind, to unearth every thought and emotion, gave him a distinct
advantage. With a few notable exceptions, including his interlude with
Vash, which he hadn't taken dreadfully seriously (until she had decided to
leave *him*--the nerve of that woman), his romantic relationships had been
confined to members of his own kind.
Although some members of the Continuum seemed capable of an eternity-long
commitment, more often than not, Q relationships tended not to last more
than a couple centuries. Since both beings involved always knew
everything that was going on in the others' mind, a telepathic bond that
was strengthened by proximity and emotional connection, it was impossible
to conceal one's ambivalence about the other, those inevitable moments of
revulsion when, despite all one's positive feelings the rest of the time,
one looked at the other and and inwardly gasped, "//My God, what have I
done?//" The ability of both partners to penetrate the other
telepathically was terribly exciting in the initial stages of a
relationship, and Q himself used his superior telepathic skills as a
means of seduction, but after a century or two or three, it became harder
and harder to gloss over the disillusion and disenchantment, every
instance of which was instantly revealed to the other. Q particularly
resented the lack of mental privacy, even though he had very little
respect for others' desire for it, and he usually spent his time after the
inevitable conclusion of a relationship wandering the galaxy with no fixed
goal other than being away from his own kind and keeping his mind to
himself. At least now, he would definitely have the upper hand . . . he
hoped.
* * *
As they walked to the observation lounge, Q, as usual, felt impatient, a
paradoxical quality in an immortal being, but a large component of Q's
character. He would have just as soon teleported both of them there,
since walking seemed like a waste of time, but he had enough understanding
to know Picard would want to enter the room on his own power.
"Jean-Luc?" said Q, "I have a small problem of my own that perhaps you can
help me with. I've demolished every game in your computer, and I'm
guessing the holodeck isn't going to offer me much more challenge, even if
I restrain my powers. I already know everything about the workings of the
Enterprise, and while I have some suggestions, I get the feeling they
wouldn't be greeted with universal acclaim just yet. What I really need
is a genuine challenge to occupy me. Any suggestions?"
Picard didn't know what to make of Q's asking him for advice, but he did
get a flash of inspiration. "Well, I do have an idea . . . but no, that
probably wouldn't work."
"Jean-Luc, you'd better say what you're thinking, or I'll just get it out
of you my way."
"Good point. What I was thinking was that if you genuinely do want a
challenge, you try to reconcile your differences with Guinan. Your tenure
aboard this ship will be a lot more enjoyable for everyone if you can make
friends with her."
"Jeez, Picard, I wanted a challenge, not an unattainable goal."
"Well, my omnipotent friend, if you think you can't do it . . . "
"Oh, I'll win her over; it just might take me a few decades."
"You're immortal, remember? You could spare a few decades in cultivating
what could be a very valuable friendship for you."
"Well, I'll give it a try, Jean-Luc. Thank-you. My life has purpose now."
They had reached the observation lounge, but Q paused for a moment.
"//Jean-Luc, I want you to know that I'm really going to make an effort to
get along with your crew and behave myself. As you've figured out, trying
to adapt myself to others doesn't come easy to me. I'm used to being
utterly self-absorbed and getting away with it. So I'll do my best, but
if you don't expect too much you won't be disappointed.//"
Picard replied in the same fashion, "//No one expects you to be a saint,
least of all me. But just the fact that you're making the effort to
interact with others instead of merely dominating them will make a
difference. I don't expect Worf or Riker to become your best friends
right away, but give it time. Data will react to you with a completely
open mind, and Deanna is not one to hold onto grudges if she sees you
trying to change. It's inevitable that they won't trust you at first;
you've caused us a lot of pain and grief, and you've repeatedly insulted
us as a species and as individuals. But I believe you're sincere in your
efforts to reform, and eventually, they will too.//"
"//Yes, dad//," sighed Q in return, "//I suppose this is the kind of
situation where profuse apologies for prior behavior are in order. Just
don't expect me to enjoy it.//"
Picard put a hand on Q's shoulder, "//I know, mon ami. I'm convinced of
your sincerity, although that's probably one the last things I would have
imagined myself saying to you. Ready to face the lions?//"
"//Maybe.//" And they walked in together.
The senior officers were not only surprised to see Q walk in with Picard,
but they were more suprised at how relaxed their Captain was with his
erstwhile antagonist. Picard gestured to a chair, and Q thought it best
to sit there rather than reclining on the table or hovering in the air.
He looked grim and felt tense. "//How could I possibly be so transfixed
by a human, of all things, to degrade myself like this?//" thought Q, "//I
hope Q isn't watching me now--I'd never hear the end of it.//" At this
reminder that he could be under the observation of his fellow Qs, Q
erected a type of telepathic zone of privacy around himself; the Continuum
would not observe or communicate with him except in an emergency or unless
he was really drawing attention to himself with large-scale misbehavior.
He glanced skyward momentarily, "//Bye, guys. I'm on my own.//" He then
crossed one leg over another, leaned back in his chair, lightly pressed
his fingertips together, tent-fashion, and waited.
Picard spoke, "I've called this meeting to inform you that Q will be
remaining on board the Enterprise for an extended visit. I have informed
Starfleet that I consider this an opportunity for the exchange of
knowledge and understanding, and after I explained the circumstances, they
agree. I understand that our prior experiences with Q have not been
conducive to the development of harmonious relations, but I believe Q to
be sincere in his desire to get to know us, without causing us trouble or
interfering with the running of the ship . . ."
"On what basis, Captain?" snapped Riker as Worf simultaneously opined, "I
don't believe anything he says."
Q shot the Klingon a look of pure menace that froze Worf momentarily and
left him furious with himself for feeling fear, but Q did not speak or
otherwise move. "//Self-control, that's the ticket, self-control//," he
thought to himself. Q also noted that, Picard did not reveal the least
bit of concern that Q might vaporize Worf; a quick check revealed that
Picard really didn't *feel* concern either. "//Jean-Luc's got more
confidence in me than I have in myself; that's a new one//," thought Q,
"//best try to justify it.//"
"I am not willing to explain the circumstances, but Q got me out of an
extremely dangerous situation when I was absent from the ship during the
conflict with the Cardassians. He acted out of concern for the well-being
of others as well as myself, and he proved himself a true friend to me.
We might be at war right now if it weren't for his actions. And I might
add, that this is not the first occasion that Q has acted in our best
interest. You may not like his methods or his demeanor, but we, and I in
particular, owe him a debt of gratitude. In addition, Q has secured a
promise from the Continuum that they will cease to put us on trial; they
will no longer interfere with us or set up tests for us to pass. They
will continue to observe us closely, through Q, and I'm afraid they have
good reason to do so, but they will keep hands off. Q has been our
advocate in this regard, and this isn't the first time he has interceded
between us and them. He has given me his word that he will respect the
chain of command on this ship and will not interfere with our missions or
operations unless we're in a life-threatening situation that has escalated
out of our control. In that case, I would venture to observe we ought to
be grateful for his interference."
Crusher looked surprised, Troi was trying to discern whether Picard had
been brainwashed or not (she concluded he hadn't), Worf was muttering to
himself, and Riker and La Forge looked unconvinced, but Data remarked, "Q,
I observed that you are no longer wearing a Starfleet uniform. I take
that to be an emblem of your intention to redefine your relationship with
us."
"Quite right, Commander. That is my intention." Q stood up, and looked
around at a conference table full of suspicious faces. "Thank-you,
Jean-Luc, for your kind words in attesting to my character. Look, I know
you have good reason not to trust me, and you have good reason for anger
at my actions in the past. I'm sorry. Believe me, apologizing is not a
skill that comes naturally to me, but I am indeed sorry. I realize I'm
acting in what seems to you to be a completely uncharacteristic fashion.
I'll confess that I don't entirely believe it myself sometimes. But I am
completely sincere in the promises I made to the Captain to be on my best
behavior. I don't know if I'm capable of being a completely model
citizen, but I'm going to try. In addition to my commission to observe
you from the Continuum, I have my own personal interest in human
behavior. You were right a long time ago, Riker; we are fascinated and
intrigued by you. You have qualities that are undeveloped in us or that
we have dissipated, and you've provoked our curiosity. The Continuum does
take it upon themselves to oversee the development and evolution of what
we see as 'inferior' species; I realize that this sounds imperialistic and
patronizing to you, but we do maintain a kind of balance and order in the
universe in ways that I couldn't begin to explain. Besides which, I have
developed a fondness for this ship and crew, and this is where I really
want to be. I've realized that the only way I'm going to begin to
understand humans is to get to know them as individuals." To himself he
mused, "//Not bad, if I say so myself, and not *entirely* untrue. It
would hardly be politic to announce that the sole reason I'm here is to
pursue their noble Captain.//"
Riker broke in, interrupting his musings, "I'm sure that's all very well
and good for you, Q--you'll get to satisfy your curiosity about us. But
what do we get out of it?"
Q turned, gazing at Riker as if he were examining an annoying insect.
Slowly and emphatically, he replied, "*I do windows.*"
At this Picard had to fight to repress a grin.
Q continued, "You, if anyone, Commander Riker, *ought* to be able to
figure out the benefits I can offer you." Q tapped his head, "Just try
thinking for a change instead of reacting. But since I *have* to spell it
out for the intellectually challenged among us, I will. In the case of
certain species you will encounter, forewarned will be forearmed. In
other cases, you will encounter beings that are so utterly different in
composition from you that you will not be able to find any way to
communicate with them. I can help you there. There are natural
phenomena, spatial and temporal anomalies, quantum distortions in the
fabric of the universe, and so on that will utterly overwhelm your
instruments. I can help you there too. There are beings out there more
powerful in certain respects than we are. I'm willing to share with you
my knowledge and my powers when you have need of them. You have to
realize, as well, that having me here renders your ship virtually
indestructible; I can't protect you against everything that's out there,
but I can protect you from most of it. And I might add, you're just going
to have to trust me and take me at my word, because you can't get rid of
me." He folded his arms and smiled.
Troi was the first to speak. "To the extent that I can read him at all, I
read him as sincere."
"I appreciate your confidence in me, Counselor," replied Q. "I am being
sincere, but in all honesty, I need to tell you that you should never rely
on your empathic abilities with a Q. I'm perfectly capable of making you
believe that I'm feeling whatever I want you to believe that I'm feeling.
And there are a good many species out there, less powerful than us, but
with the ability to block out empathic receiving or to project false
emotions in a way that would deceive the most powerful Betazoid. That's
just one example of what awaits you as you explore further into the
galaxy. And by the way, Counselor, I can teach you how to screen out your
mother if you like."
Troi was not entirely surprised; she had been thinking, as Q spoke, about
how convenient it would be to be able to escape her mother's scrutiny on
occasion. "Well, Q," she laughed, "I may have to take you up on that!"
Data spoke up. "Having Q as an ally could potentially be very beneficial
to us. And as he says, we have no way of physically removing him from the
ship. I believe that I could certainly learn a good deal from having him
here. There is so much that we do not know. The knowledge he offers and
the interaction between his species and ours are precisely compatible with
our mission. This is an excellent opportunity, and I would like to accept
Q's offer to get to know him better."
"//Two down//," thought Q, then turned to Data, "Thank you, my professor
of the humanities. Not only did you save my life several years ago, but
you have shown an open mind. I anticipated that you and the Counselor
would be the most willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. As to the
rest of you, you're just going to have to put me to the proof of what I've
promised. You don't have a choice."
Riker turned to the Captain, "We still don't know what happened to you
during our confrontation with the Cardassians. Perhaps our confidence in
our guest would be enhanced if we understood the circumstances you were
referring to earlier."
"Undoubtedly, that is the case, Number One," replied Picard, "but I have
reasons for keeping those to myself." Picard glanced briefly at Q and
spoke mentally, "//Q, I need to talk to you in private after this.//"
"//I'm yours to command, mon Capitaine.//" A quick smile flitted over
both their faces. Troi was observing both closely. She had sensed that
some type of communication had taken place between Q and the Captain and
that there was a trust and harmony between them she had never sensed
before, but the content of the exchange was hidden from her.
"I have a question," noted La Forge, "Q, did you have anything to do with
disabling our weapons systems?"
"Indeed. Yours and all the others. The Cardassians were about to violate
their own deadline by several minutes, so it seemed prudent to me to allow
both sides the opportunity to cool off. I'm sorry to have created so much
extra work for you, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
If you like, I can expedite your repairs."
"I appreciate the offer," said La Forge softly, "but my staff is learning
a lot in the process of putting everything back together. They could use
the experience. If we need to get out of here in a hurry, though, I'll
certainly ask for your help."
Q nodded in acknowledgment, but Riker was still fuming. "How do we know
you didn't start the confrontation in the first place? If you're looking
for gratitude you're not going to get it."
Picard was about to speak, but Q gave him a glance indicating that he
could handle this. Q spoke, "Well, you can't know, can you? If you can't
bring yourself to trust me, there's no way you can ever know anything
about me with any certainty. That's just something you'll have to get
used to. And believe me, I'm not interested in *your* gratitude,
Commander. If it was just *your* life I had to worry about, I probably
would have let the Cardassians fire away."
Picard spoke again. "Well, I *am* grateful for Q's intervention, and the
rest of you should be as well. Q is now our guest. While I hope you will
all eventually afford yourselves of the opportunity to broaden your
horizons, I leave that up to you. I expect that you will treat him with
cordiality and otherwise go about your business as you normally would.
Dismissed."
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 5, Part 1
Date: Wed, 09 Aug 1995 22:04:08 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 5, Part 1
As the senior staff filed out of the room, most of them suspicious of Q
and surprised at Picard's behavior, Troi lingered a moment. "Q, could I
really learn to screen out telepathic reading?"
"Undoubtedly, Counselor. You couldn't learn to block my reading you, I'm
afraid," he smiled, "but I can teach you to be impervious to the most
powerful humanoid telepath. I could also help you enhance your own
ability, but you should think about it for a while. The temptation to
read others' minds is awfully hard to resist, as I can testify, and you
might find that having more advanced telepathic skills could cause some
professional conflicts of interest for you."
"That's fascinating," replied Troi. "I would definitely like to work on
the first. I'd really appreciate that."
After Troi left the observation lounge, Picard slumped back heavily
against the conference table, put his head in his hand, and sighed. "I
believe you could use a change of scene, Captain," said Q. "Would you
care to accompany me to my parlor?" Picard nodded. In a moment they had
materialized on top of the saucer section of the Enterprise. Having
experienced Q's omnipotence, Picard was not surprised that Q was able to
regulate the temperature around him and provide air for him to breathe.
Picard glanced at the structure of the orbiting Starbase, then positioned
himself so he could gaze at the planet below. The view was breathtaking,
and as he watched the shifting patterns caused by clouds moving over
oceans and continents, he felt the knot in his chest begin to loosen.
"It's remarkable," said Picard as they sat down. "We always see space
through some kind of filter or frame--sensors, viewscreens, windows. It's
an entirely different sensation to be simply outside the ship with no
protective gear. It's very liberating."
Q didn't have the heart to tell Picard that even a view like the one he
was experiencing now lost its charm after a few centuries. He could tell
that the Captain was absorbed in his own problems. At that moment,
Riker's voice burst from Picard's comm badge: "Riker to Picard, Captain,
are you all right? What has he done with you?"
"Yes Will, I'm fine. Q and I are sitting on top of the saucer section."
"Captain, I'm concerned for your safety. You should return immediately to
the ship."
Picard laughed. "Really, Number One, you have nothing to be concerned
about. And the view up here is spectacular. If you mind your manners,
perhaps Q will be so good as to share it with you some time. Picard out."
Q fell over laughing. "Jean-Luc, you never cease to amaze me. Do you
have any idea how they're going to react to your taking my side against
Riker's? Small wonders never cease. Would you like to know what they're
saying? Riker is consulting with Data at the moment." At this Q did an
absolutely perfect imitation of Riker's voice and inflection: "Data, is
it possible that Q has brainwashed the Captain in some way?"
"Well, Q," laughed Picard, "I've been wondering that myself."
"You wound me, Jean-Luc. Data seems to trust me, at any rate." At this,
Q switched into Data's voice: "With Q I believe anything is possible,
Commander, but I see no evidence that the Captain has been mentally
affected in any way or that Q is exerting any influence on him. I think
it is more plausible that Q meant what he said in the meeting, that he
wants to get to know us better. Perhaps he has just figured out the right
way to go about it." Q said the last few words slowly and thoughtfully.
"You know, Q," said Picard, "I believe Data understands you better than
the rest of us. At any rate, I wish you'd stop eavesdropping on them and
listen to me."
"I can do both, Jean-Luc. Give me some credit. But if you want me to
tune them out, I will; it's just so hard to resist listening in when I
know I'm the topic of conversation."
It was Picard's turn to laugh, "Do you have any idea, Q, just how human
you are?"
Q glared at his companion, "Be that as it may, I believe we came up here
to discuss *your* shortcomings, not mine."
Picard sighed, "I feel awkward asking you to be my confidante like this,
but . . . "
"But you're devastated by what happened yesterday, and you're too
embarrassed and ashamed to tell any of your crew about it, and so I'm the
only one you can talk to. It's not exactly an overwhelming vote of
confidence, but I'll take what I can get."
"Q, if you're reading my mind, you know perfectly well that I *do* trust
you. I understand that you've been operating on my behalf for some time.
I just don't know why, and that makes me uneasy."
"Look," said Q loftily, "I'm not trying to be condescending but I couldn't
possibly explain my reasons in terms *you* could understand," which was
true enough, he thought to himself. Picard would have been confounded if
he had any inkling of the nature of Q's interest in him. Q continued,
"Either trust me or not. But here I am, ready and willing to lend an
ear. That's what you're looking for, isn't it?"
"Quite so." Picard sighed again and shook his head. He still felt
uneasy, but Q really was the only one he felt he could talk to about
this. "I'm still flabbergasted, both by the reasons I insisted on
accepting the Continuum's offer and by what my intentions were. They were
originally good, I believe. I really wanted to use my power to promote
some kind of peace, to find some way to get both sides to withdraw, maybe
even talk. And I was frustrated because all of a sudden I had all this
power, but I really didn't have the mental capacity to understand what to
do with it. There were too many choices, too many possibilities. I had
no way of sorting them out. It must have been similar to the overload of
information Data experienced when he first became sentient, and just the
opposite of how you must have felt with your intelligence intact but your
powers removed a few years ago."
"Don't remind me, " shuddered Q.
Picard continued, "The anger I felt when I saw the Cardassian prison camps
first hand was unlike anything I've ever experienced. The memory of
having been tortured myself absolutely flooded back--Q, you can have no
idea of the helplessness and humiliation." Picard paused, clearly shaken,
and tried to collect himself. He was soon steadied by the firm hand of Q
on his shoulder, took a deep breath, and explained, "Instead of the
helpless anger I felt then, I was actually in a position to do something
about it. And, confused as I was by all the choices and possibilities, I
went for the simplest solution I could think of, the most fundamental and
childish way of defining the problem. The Cardassians were evil and
needed to be punished. When you disarmed all the ships, I was even more
furious that I hadn't thought of that, and my anger got transferred to
you."
"//I'll say//," thought Q, so Picard "heard" him.
"Well, Q, I saw you as an obstacle to my own solution, and I felt you were
mocking me. With all the choices I had, I was so barraged, the only clear
sensation I could register was anger. It almost felt as though if I could
just dissipate some of the sensations that were overwhelming me with a
burst of absolute destruction, I could channel my powers into something
more positive. I guess I thought I could, in godlike fashion, force a
transformation on the Cardassian culture. It's just so unimaginable that
I could have acted in a way that violates all my moral beliefs. Q, I
really was trying to kill you! I don't understand why you've apparently
forgiven me."
"You weren't trying to kill me, Jean-Luc--you weren't yourself. It's not
unimaginable at all, that you would act in that way. I think you need to
make a distinction here. Once you got the powers what you did with them
was wrong, of course, but I think it was inevitable. Nobody could be
handed absolute power all of a sudden and have the capacity to handle it,
especially you. You've always had a sense of yourself as fated to do
great things. You've accomplished a tremendous amount for a human--you've
solved problems most humans would not be able to, you've thought
creatively in a way most humans aren't capable of, and you've endured what
most humans would have been destroyed by. But you will never be
satisfied; you will always be reaching for more. That's a good quality
for a human, because given your very limited capacities, you wouldn't be
able to improve yourselves unless you had this insatiable drive. But you
need to channel that drive with wisdom gained from experience.
You wouldn't give an ambitious young ensign fresh out the academy a
Starship command. Just as you described, the possibilities and choices
would be too overwhelming. He or she would need to gain knowledge and
experience over a period of years before being able to make responsible
decisions as a captain. Otherwise the ensign, now captain, would be faced
with such a contrast between his or her earlier powerlessness and his or
or her current position, that the temptation to show off that power would
be irresistable. In your case, you felt powerless to do anything really
effective about the Cardassians, and you felt particularly put out by your
powerlessness in relation to *me*--it's perfectly understandable that you
would misuse your sudden acquisition of omnipotence. I don't think any
human, given complete invulnerability and absolute power, could have
resisted the impulse to cause major damage to one's enemies. And I think
you were, quite literally, out of your mind. I would accept a plea of
temporary insanity on your part. Where you screwed up in a big way,
Jean-Luc, and where you really need to do some soul-searching, was in your
decision to accept the offer in the first place."
"I think you're right, Q. I knew you were right, of course, I knew
intellectually that I would be tempted to misuse the power. But I had
this irresistable compulsion to prove my independence from you, to get
back at you for all the times you patronized and insulted us. I wanted
retribution but in the most childish fashion. And I feel absolutely
terrible in a way I've never experienced before. My experience with the
Borg was devastating, but in a different way. I had to learn that some
things were simply out of my control and I couldn't do anything about
them. In this case, I *could* have done things entirely differently; it
was my choice entirely, and I chose wrong from start to finish."
"You had already learned that lesson before the Borg, Jean-Luc. One of
the things that makes you a great captain is that you are willing to admit
when you're outmatched. In our first encounter, you surrendered rather
than risk the lives of your crew, and you asked for my help when I put you
in the way of the Borg. When facing external threats, you're willing to
accept your limitations, but the problem is you don't want to admit your
own fallibility, the possibility that you would do the wrong thing and for
completely selfish reasons. You've always been convinced that you are
morally superior to me; that conviction allowed you to fool yourself that
your decision to accept the powers was based on something other than a
childish desire to say, 'I'll show *you*!'"
"You're absolutely right, Q, and I'm not happy about it. I feel utterly
ashamed of myself, and it's not a feeling I'm used to. And I have to
confess it's particularly galling to have to admit that you were right all
along. I so much wanted to defeat you, to prove you were completely
mistaken about us; I wanted to humiliate you as you had done to me. I
feel ashamed because I don't normally give in to such impulses."
"Jean-Luc, you don't normally admit to even having such impulses. That's
where your problem lies. But if it's any consolation, I don't think less
of you. Since I didn't have to kill you, and you didn't succeed in
killing me, it's kind of satisfying to me to see the paragon of ethical
perfection brought down a few pegs. I'm egotistical and selfish, but at
least I admit it. You're just as egotistical, and it's time you started
to realize that."
Picard sighed. "Q, I'm sure you have some virtues somewhere, and I know
you have a lot of abilities, but just don't ever expect me to recommend
you for a position as a ship's counselor."
"I'm sorry, Jean-Luc. You asked me for help, and I haven't been able to
provide it."
"No, that's not true. Your analysis of why I did what I did made a lot of
sense. You effectively pinpointed exactly where I went wrong. Everything
you've said is absolutely true; it just doesn't particularly make me feel
any better. I think what I wanted was a little sympathy. I'm feeling
sorry for myself. I know it's self-indulgent, but it's not every day that
one violates every one of one's most cherished beliefs and principles on
such a massive scale."
Q's voice dropped, and he spoke slowly, as if considering every word,
"Well, when it comes to things like sympathy, I'm afraid you're going to
have to spell out what you want. Empathy is not a highly developed trait
among us; we don't have to put ourselves in each others' places, since we
can communicate everything telepathically. And those parts of ourselves
we choose *not* to share we shield completely. Either way, empathy would
seem to require a kind of imaginative identification a Q has very little
need for or experience of. When I'm just listening to you speak, not
reading your mind, I don't entirely have the ability to understand all the
different layers of emotions you're experiencing. I can't read between
the lines without invading your privacy entirely. So if you want sympathy
from me, you're going to have to ask for it directly, but even so, I'm not
exactly sure how to provide it. I can't even say I know exactly how you
feel; I've *never* been remotely that driven or that motivated about
anything. As I've said, all my myriad transgressions were the result of
boredom, not a burning desire to rearrange the political structure and
balance of power of the galaxy. There are other things I can do. I can
make you forget most of the experience or simply block your negative
emotions, but I don't think that's what you're looking for. Otherwise I'm
out of my league. When one is supposed to be providing sympathy, what
does one do?"
Picard couldn't help smiling. Q, who was so powerful in certain respects,
had very little in the way of social skills. It would have been
impossible for him to utter platitudes like "I know just how you feel," or
"Everything's going to be OK." Picard realized that was one reason he was
beginning to find Q's company so stimulating; whether he was feeling anger
or affection, Q said what he meant without bothering with social niceties
and conventions. He was making a genuine effort to help, even if he
didn't quite know how to go about it. Q was still regarding the Captain
with a slightly worried frown on his face.
"Well, Q, it's not so much that I want you to say you know how I feel when
it isn't the case or to reassure me with false platitudes. I'll be honest
with you, since I really appreciate how honest you've been being with me.
I'm really devastated by what happened, by what I did, by my own
perversity in accepting the Continuum's offer in the first place, and I
feel very alone and . . . ashamed."
As he spent more time with humans, Q was becoming more convinced of the
virtues of physical contact. His initial impulse was to put his arms
around Picard and press his lips to his forehead, but he knew now was not
the time. He wasn't ready to leave himself that open, and he knew Picard
wouldn't be able to handle it anyway. Instead, he made his voice into a
caress, soothing the object of his affections without touching him.
"Jean-Luc," said Q gently, "you're not alone. This kind of thing is very
difficult for me to say, but I care about you a great deal. And I find
you intriguing . . . in your own limited way," he added teasingly, and
Picard accepted it as such. "I took a real risk in taking your side
against the Continuum," Q explained. "If they were so inclined, they
could have exiled me again, or stripped me of my powers again, or executed
any number of disagreeable punishments for my continuing defiance of their
authority. But I did it because I realized I wouldn't stand for them
putting you at risk any more. I wasn't going to be a party to experiments
that could destroy you. Furthermore, I realized that I would like to have
you around for at least your natural lifespan, and that's why I insisted
that they," at this Q glanced skyward, "not interfere at my extending my
protection to you and this ship. Fortunately," he smiled, "I was
convincing enough. I don't believe they've ever seen me so sincere in my
life; I think it was that that won them over. So, Jean-Luc, I don't know
if that constitutes sympathy, but it's the best I can do. I'm not very
experienced at what humans regard as friendship."
"Thank you," said Picard quietly, "That *does* help. But, Q? I know I've
already brought this up, but is there *any* way you can give me *any* idea
why I, a *mere* human, a member of the race you hold in *such* contempt,
have inspired this concern in you?"
"//'Concern,' now there's a nice neutral word//," thought Q to himself,
"//I don't think I'd better confess undying passion just yet.//" But an
irresistable perversity compelled Q to say slyly, "Oh, I've developed kind
of a *thing* for bald starship captains over the past few years." Picard
raised his eyebrows slightly and sighed in exasperation. Q grinned.
"Sorry, Jean-Luc. I can't answer your question yet. Give it time. I'm
not going anywhere. Anyway, I need to keep a few secrets to myself for
the time being." Q paused, then continued: "I sincerely want to help you
in any way I can. I hope you'll find me a valuable friend, but I have to
warn you. I won't be an easy one."
"I never for one moment imagined that you would," returned Picard.
Both smiled with shared understanding, but there was a hard edge in Q's
voice as he said, "Precisely, mon Capitaine. Just don't forget it." Q
blew Picard a kiss just as he returned him to the bridge, but in the flash
of light, the kiss was only registered by Picard's subsconcious. He could
remember the entire conversation, but that final gesture was like
something in a dream he had forgotten just as he woke up. He knew he felt
suddenly troubled about his parting from Q, but he didn't know why.
* * *
As soon as Picard reappeared on the bridge, Riker and Worf began barraging
him with a tirade against Q's presence. Worf insisted that Q was a threat
to the ship's security, and Riker, barely containing his impatience,
asked, "Permission to speak freely, sir?" Picard nodded, but not at all
encouragingly. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and his
eyes narrowed. Ignoring these non-verbal cues, Riker unwisely pressed on,
"Captain, it is my responsibility to ensure your personal safety. I
cannot fulfill that responsibility if Q is going to be spiriting you off
the ship at any moment. I think he's going to be disruptive and a
distraction at best, and I still believe that the threat he poses far
outweighs any potential 'benefits.'"
Picard had had enough and exploded, "Number One, for God's sake, I am
neither a child nor a fool! I believe I am still the Captain of this
ship. I have made up my mind, and you're just going to have to accept
it. As to my personal safety, if Q's transportation methods alarm you,
then don't ever avail yourself of them. But if Q asks me if I want to go
with him, using his powers, I believe you should give me credit for having
the capacity to make up my own mind whether to accept or not. Have you
ever known me to defer to Q except when lives were at stake? I haven't
exactly been his most ardent admirer on this ship. But he *has* changed,
and I'll tell you something, Will, *I trust him*. It's not that I expect
him to be a model of selfless and virtuous behavior--I imagine he'll be
pretty damned irritating at times--but I absolutely believe that he will
not harm anyone on this ship, and furthermore, we ought to be grateful for
the protection he's offering us. You don't have to like him, and you
don't have spend time with him, but you're going to damnned well treat him
as *my* guest. Frankly, if I were you, knowing how volatile Q can be, I'd
watch what I say. His telepathic abilities are far beyond anything you
can imagine, and he's probably listening to us right now. I know he won't
do anything to harm you or disrupt your ability to perform your duties,
but even with those restrictions, I'm sure he has any number of creative
ways of expressing his displeasure."
Q, of course, was listening in and could barely contain his glee. As the
bridge officers watched, a message began spooling out across the
viewscreen: "AS A MATTER OF FACT, JEAN-LUC, I AM LISTENING. AS TO YOU,
COMMANDER RIKER, IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE TO ME WHETHER YOU
APPROVE OF MY
PRESENCE OR NOT. BUT YOU REALLY OUGHT TO TREAT YOUR CAPTAIN
WITH A LITTLE
MORE RESPECT, N'EST CE PAS?"
Picard was half-expecting Q to transform Riker temporarily into some
annoying animal or otherwise wreak some signal revenge on him, but much to
his surprise, Q exercised unexpected self-restraint and left his message
to Riker to speak for itself. It had the intended effect. Riker was
thoroughly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sir," he apologized, "I was
completely out of line in questioning your judgment and authority." Riker
then glanced up, "I don't like to admit it, Q, but you're right this
time. Just don't expect me to be your best friend."
"HEAVEN PROTECT ME FROM SUCH A FATE," replied the viewscreen.
"Now," said Picard, "do you think we could get back to work?"
* * *
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 5, Part 2
Date: Wed, 09 Aug 1995 22:11:26 -0800
Message-ID:
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 5, Part 2
Picard remained troubled, however. When he went off-duty, he headed to
Ten-Forward. He knew Guinan would be apprised of what had been said in
conference about Q remaining on board, but he didn't realize that Guinan
actually knew the entire story. "Guinan," he asked, as they sat down at a
corner table, "can you tell me anything about your previous dealings with
Q?"
"I would prefer not to, Captain. And that was a long time ago. It has
nothing to do with you."
"You're right," sighed Picard. "I just don't know what to make of him.
He has promised not to harm anyone here, and he has professed friendship
to me, but what can that mean for him? How can a friendship exist with
such an utter disparity between two individuals?"
"You're friends with some your officers," smiled Guinan. "Yet there's a
large disparity in power and responsibility."
"I know," said Picard almost irritably, "but with Q that's multiplied a
thousandfold. Friendship implies a degree of reciprocity, and that's
possible with my officers, but what the devil do I have to offer Q?"
"Captain, how would you describe Q's relationship with the other Q?" It
was like Guinan to answer a question with another question, and Picard was
used to it.
Picard thought back to the times he knew of that the Continuum had imposed
authority on Q, and he also recalled Q's confrontation with his blond
colleague after Q's speech. "He doesn't seem particularly popular there,"
he answered.
"That would be an accurate, if understated, way of putting it," noted
Guinan with an enigmatic smile. "Q is a nonconformist and a rebel. This
does not go over well with his fellow Q. He also doesn't have a lot in
the way of interpersonal skills."
"I've noticed," laughed Picard, who then frowned and said musingly, "So
you're suggesting he's *lonely*?"
"Those who affirm their self-sufficiency the most are often those most in
need of connection with others," said Guinan pointedly, and Picard wasn't
sure if she was describing Q or himself . . . or both.
"I can't offer him the kind of benefits he can offer me, obviously," said
Picard, "but you think he just wants company?"
"Well, Captain, you've showed a lot more tolerance for him than most of
the other individuals he's tormented. He's probably overwhelmed with
gratitude, although he'd never admit it."
"You've never seemed particularly fond of him," said Picard. "Are *you*
telling me I should trust him?"
"He seems to have adopted you as a kind of protegé," responded Guinan
slowly. "And lying outright isn't his style. If he promised not to harm
you, he won't. I don't see that you have any choice *but* to trust him,
Picard. So you might as well make the most of it."
Picard looked sharply at Guinan. "That's almost exactly what he said."
* * *
Having put Riker in his place, Q decided it was time to move on to the
next challenge--Guinan. He knew that Picard was right and that having
Guinan as an enemy would certainly not enhance his comfort. Once the
coast was clear, and he knew Picard had gone to his quarters, he resolved
to get it over with. At the same time, he wasn't in any hurry to get to
Ten-Forward, despite his resolve. He materialized several decks away and
actually walked and used the turbolift, hesitating in front of the
entrance to Ten-Forward before he finally steeled himself to go in. Even
with his powers intact, Q approached Guinan with wariness. He sat down at
the bar, and remarked, "I hope you're not going to stab me with a fork
this time. It can't do wonders for repeat business to assault your
customers," and Guinan whirled around, furious.
She seethed, in a low voice, so as not to be overheard, "It may not be a
sound business practice, but you bring out the worst in people. Why can't
you just leave us alone? Why did you let him do it? He could have been
killed, and there's no telling how much damage he could have done. Don't
you have any sense of responsibility?"
"Moi?" replied Q. "You shouldn't jump to conclusions when you don't have
all the facts, dear; it makes you seem considerably less intelligent than
you are. I had to make him the offer; I didn't have any choice. It was
his decision to accept. If you want to know the truth, I tried my hardest
to talk him out of it, but you know how obstinate he is. He insisted."
"I can believe that," sighed Guinan. "But you had to know he would
accept. You should have done everything in your power to stop the
experiment in the first place."
"Excuse me, but I don't have a whole lot of clout in the Continuum these
days. I just work there. No matter what I told them, they insisted that
if I didn't convey their offer, they would have sent someone else. And
don't you *dare* accuse me of irresponsibility, Woman. Not only did I
stop him, without killing him, mind you, but I got the Continuum to
promise not to interfere with him or any other humans any more. Doesn't
that count for anything?"
"Yes, of course it does. You were lucky things didn't get more out of
hand though. Did it ever occur to you, with your IQ of 2005, that if
another member of the Continuum had conveyed the offer to Picard, he would
probably have never accepted it? Picard couldn't care less about
satisfying the Continuum; he would have simply turned them down. But when
it came as a challenge from *you*, how could he do anything but take you
up on it? You've proved to him over and over again how helpless he is,
that you can do anything you want to him. He's human, and humans don't
like being humiliated even if it's in their own best interest. Don't you
know him well enough by now to have figured out how he would react?"
Q's eyes widened, then he lowered his forehead into his hand with a heavy
sigh. Shaking his head, he conceded, "You're right, Guinan. That didn't
occur to me at all. I just figured it was between him and me. I guess
I've always thought of Picard as my personal property; I didn't want to
let any of my colleagues in on my territory. I'm sorry--I screwed up."
Guinan wasn't through with Q yet. "Well, next time, don't screw up.
Look, I have to admit it took a lot of courage for you to stand up to the
Continuum on Picard's behalf. I understand that you voluntarily put
yourself through a major humiliation for his sake. . . ."
"You're telling me," muttered Q.
Guinan continued, "But when you should have stood up to them was when they
got this little *dumb* idea in the first place. I know you tried to talk
them out of it, but that's not enough. You knew what they were proposing
was both dangerous and unethical. You should have refused to participate
and risked the consequences beforehand, not after the fact."
At this point, a young officer approached the bar. Q impatiently waved
his hand and the drinks the officer was intending to order simply
materialized in his hands. "How'd you do that?" he gasped.
"I learned it in bartending school. Highly advanced class," snapped Q.
"I'd appreciate if you could try to be polite to my customers," remarked
Guinan. "Play all the tricks you want, but try to be civil."
"I'll try, but it won't be easy." Q leaned his head in his hand. "Well,
you certainly know how to give a guy a good time, Woman. Any more
horrendous mistakes and ethical shortcomings of mine you'd like to point
out? You're right, of course. I should have refused from the start.
Damn! I suppose this whole thing was my fault. I feel terrible; you have
no idea how furious I was with him."
"Oh, he deserved it, too," admitted Guinan. "He should have anticipated
the results, but he did it just to spite you. You're both at fault. You
are a bit older than he is, though, and you should have known better."
"Yes, Mom. You know, neither you nor Picard are my parents, but you're
both acting like it, and it's getting old fast."
Guinan smiled, but not in a particularly friendly fashion, "Maybe it's
because Picard and I know you have a history of childish behavior. You're
not so wise for all your knowledge, but I've told you that before."
"Haven't you though?"
"Listen, Q," said Guinan. "I'm going to be keeping an eye on you. I have
some power over you, if you recall."
"And if *you* recall, if I made up my mind to eliminate you, I could do so
without too much trouble. The only reason you have any power over me at
all is that I have considered your life worth preserving so far. But
*don't* push your luck."
"Q," said Guinan quietly, "I know you've promised to behave yourself, but
I've also seen you lose control in ways I still shudder to remember. If
you threaten this ship or its crew in any way, I'm going to do my best to
stop you, regardless of the consequences."
"Yes, of course," retorted Q sarcastically, "everyone loves a martyr."
Then he added seriously, "But can't you admit the possibility that I've
changed? Picard has; he actually trusts me. Ask him--he's genuinely glad
I'm here. I don't need to review my many and varied transgressions with
you; you know them as well as I. But give a guy a little credit for being
able to modify his behavior, OK? I'm a new Q."
"Why?" asked Guinan. "You've always prided yourself on your selfishness
and your independence. Why all of a sudden have you decided to start
behaving yourself?"
"I have a compelling motivation, and it has nothing to do with a newly
acquired overwhelming sense of virtue, I'm afraid. I'm simply trying to
make a good impression."
"On whom?"
"Can't you figure it out, all-knowing one?" demanded Q. "I can't believe
*that* has escaped your powers of observation. You know, it's not easy
for me to admit, least of all to you, but I'm trying really hard to get on
your good side: Q the omnipotent, Q the self-sufficient, is smitten,
infatuated, lovestruck, enraptured, enthralled, transfixed, you name it."
At this juncture, he paused to create more drinks for an approaching
patron, not wishing to be interrupted.
It was Guinan's turn to turn wide-eyed with a sudden shock of
recognition. Q was actually quite self-satisfied to see her
discomfiture. "*Oh . . . my . . . God*," she exclaimed with emphasis,
"it's *Picard*!"
"Bingo. Yes, she did it, ladies and gentlemen! She wins a new car and a
vacation of her choice to any part of the galaxy!" He continued,
imitating Guinan's voice, "Well, Captain, you've showed a lot more
tolerance for him than most of the other individuals he's tormented. He's
probably overwhelmed with gratitude, although he'd never admit it." In
his own voice, he added, "I find it hard to believe that you could be so
naive."
"You were listening?"
"Of *course* I was listening. Would you honestly have expected me not to?"
"You've got a point there," replied Guinan drily, but she was trying to
repress a smile. There was something endearingly irresistable about Q in
his childishness when he wasn't actually doing harm. Guinan knew better
than almost anyone of the wistful loneliness that underlay Q's bluster.
It didn't excuse his sadistic and vindictive behavior, but it went a long
way toward explaining it.
"Well," she sighed. "I have to compliment you on your good taste. Does
he know?"
"No, no, no. He knows he's important to me, and he knows I take an
interest in him, but he doesn't have the faintest idea what that interest
consists of. And I intend to keep it that way for a while. He has enough
problems for the moment."
"Are you going to tell him?"
"When it seems like the right time, *if* it ever seems like the right
time." Q paused, took a deep breath, and said quietly, "Guinan, he's the
only thing in my entire miserable, wasted existence that really means
anything to me. I don't want to screw this up."
Guinan placed her hand on top of Q's, and they clasped hands briefly as
she said, "Well, Q, I don't know what to tell you. He may surprise you,
and you may surprise yourself. I just don't know. But I *can* offer you
a drink."
"Sure, why not?" replied the entity. "I'm certainly living a cliché,
aren't I? Here I am, leaning my head on a bar and pouring out my woes to
the bartender."
Guinan smiled, "Well, I'm a very good bartender. You know, Q, when you're
like this you're almost likable."
"See what love has brought me to? Even *you* like me now!"
"I said almost," said Guinan with a grin.
"That's good. I wouldn't want to be perceived as going completely soft."
Q swallowed his drink in one gulp, remarking, "Not bad," waved his hand to
suspend time in order not to be observed, then leaned across the bar,
kissed Guinan on the cheek, and said, "Thanks for listening. You're a
pal."
"I've tried to be for centuries."
"I know; I just wasn't ready to listen to you." Q smiled and winked, then
disappeared, allowing the flow of time to resume as he did so. Guinan
remained behind the bar shaking her head and chuckling until Q's absence
forced her to return to the business of making drinks.
* * *
Picard lay awake on his bed, in the dark, hands folded behind his head,
eyes wide open. Sleep was impossible. His mind was churning, trying to
make sense of something too incomprehensible for him to make sense of.
"//How am I ever going to live with this? I've made mistakes, errors in
judgment, I've let my arrogance cloud my reasoning, but I never imagined
that I could intentionally commit a wholly evil act. To even conceive of
exterminating all those lives! I hope Q was right, that I was temporarily
insane. But how could I have accepted the offer? I knew humans don't
have the capacity to handle unlimited power. How could I have allowed
myself such a complete lapse in judgment? It seems as if every time I
encounter Q, he gives me a choice or a decision to make, and I inevitably
make the wrong one. When he offered to join the crew, it was my arrogance
and cockiness that made me turn him down. 'Your help is not
required'--what idiocy! How do I know that there weren't things even in
this part of the galaxy that could outmatch our capabilities? What would
we have done when the Borg did arrive eventually? 'Your help is not
required'--how utterly foolish! Think of all the lives that could have
been saved if I'd had the sense to strike up an alliance with Q when he
first offered it. And think of the exploration we might have been able to
do, almost risk-free. But no, I had to say 'Your help is not required.'
Well, I certainly made a fool of myself and lost 18 crew members in the
process. I could have asked for his help sooner than I did. He may have
lost his temper, but he was right. How do I know there isn't a force out
there even greater than the Borg?//
//And when he came back to us, stripped of his powers, I refused to
believe him. And the next time he returned, he was right as well. He saw
through Vash in an instant. Ah yes, 'the great Jean-Luc Picard brought
down by a woman.' Indeed. I suppose it's understandable I didn't listen
to him then. No one listens to advice, however well-intentioned, when
they're in love. But when Q gave me the opportunity to change my past,
why didn't I see what he was doing? I knew the extent of Q's powers--if
he wanted to revive me, he would have revived me, no matter what I did.
He knew so much better than I did that the person I was then is
inextricable from the person I am now. Usually I'm a competent person. I
have the respect of my crew, I've gotten us out of almost impossible
situations; together we've solved almost insurmountable problems. I don't
understand why every time Q comes around and puts me in the position of
making a choice and sets a trap that I ought to see my way around, I walk
right in and slam the door shut behind me. Why is that?//
//And this last time, he wasn't trying to trick me or teach me anything at
all. He was trying to intercede, to prevent me from making the most
foolish decision of my life, but I refused to accept that he could be
right. He changed somehow after his effort to tempt Riker failed. He's
been trying to help me all along, granted in pretty brutal and tactless
ways, but why can't I separate his manner from his intentions? I'm
supposed to have some understanding of diplomacy and experience in dealing
with representatives of any number of cultures. I'm supposed to have some
grasp of human nature, and in the ways he responds to us, Q is as human as
we mortals are. So why couldn't I see through his bluster and his
imperiousness to the intentions underneath? Yes, he has a sadistic
streak, yes he enjoys lording it over us and professing his superiority.
So what? Why couldn't I see beyond that to the knowledge and experience
he has to offer? Why couldn't I have listened to him, this time, when I
knew he had previously proven his interest in my welfare? Why couldn't I
have listened to him just this once?//"
Picard felt as though every muscle in his body was knotted up. His eyes
seemed frozen open, his brain in a turmoil of activity. Then, suddenly,
inexplicably, he began to relax. His mind seemed instantly empty. He
felt what seemed like invisible, insubstantial fingers smoothing the lines
of his forehead, stroking his eyes closed, releasing the tension in his
clenched jaw. Picard's head sank like a lead weight into his pillow, as a
wave of warmth and relaxation slowly progressed down his body. He felt
the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders begin to relax and became aware
that his breathing and heartbeat grew slower and more regular. The aching
knots in his chest and stomach began to unravel as his back muscles also
loosened. As the sensation of relaxation moved down his body toward his
feet, he felt heavier, sinking more and more into his mattress. With a
sigh, he fell asleep, not registering the sensation of lips briefly
touching his forehead.
As soon as Picard fell asleep, Q resumed his corporeal form. He had not
merely been invisible, but intangible as well. He had been hovering,
cloud-like, in a corner of the room, projecting the sensations Picard had
felt. Now he paced quietly. It was obvious that Picard was not going to
get over this incident very soon, but Q wanted urgently to help him do
so. He was troubled. It seemed clear that Picard would be questioning
and second-guessing himself for some time. Q hadn't realized just how
deeply shaken Picard was. As far as Q was concerned, once an incident was
past and once the consequences had been dealt with, there was no point in
dwelling on it. Of course as a Q, one could go back in time and change
what had already occurred, but the consequences of meddling with time were
often more catastrophic than the original incident itself. So Q had
learned early on in his checkered career that dwelling on his past
behavior didn't benefit anyone.
Stupid mistakes deserved swift retaliation; Q had dealt with Picard in the
same manner that his superiors had dealt with him. But once the
punishment had been exacted and once one had suffered the deserved scorn
and derision of one's colleagues, it was time to move on. The emotion of
regret was not unknown to Q, but he was very selective as to which of his
transgressions he did regret, and his energy was channeled more toward
rectifying the harm he had caused or finding some way to make up for it
rather than berating himself. He didn't see the point of Picard's beating
himself up, but he also was not yet aware of how far Picard's guilty
conscience would drive him. He was soon to find out, but in the
meanwhile, he was half-satisfied that he had provided the object of his
affections with a night's sleep. Not a permanent solution, but a
necessary one for the time being. Q knew Picard had his work cut out for
him.
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 6 (1/2)
Date: Fri, 11 Aug 1995 17:30:17 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 307
Message-ID:
NNTP-Posting-Host: user32.lightside.com
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 6, Part 1
Picard had received orders from Starfleet that, as soon as the repairs
were completed at Starbase 329 (a process which would take a couple of
weeks), the Enterprise was to pick up two senior Federation ambassadors
and a team of negotiators and take them to a spot near the Cardassian
border where the ship would serve as host for a new round of peace talks.
Although Q had prevented the battlefield holocaust Picard had been about
to initiate, he had been too occupied with Picard to erase the memories of
all involved. Now Picard's actions in the prison camps were having
longer-term repercussions. Although both sides did not have any real
desire to engage in a full-scale war, the recent events had escalated
their suspicions of each other, and the Cardassians were still insisting
that Starfleet had to be involved in the release of the prisoners. No one
but Q and Guinan knew of Picard's involvement. In the meanwhile, both
sides were preoccupied with repairs to the weapons systems of their ships.
While Worf reported to Picard about the security arrangements for the
visiting dignitaries on both sides and the potential for terrorist
activity on the part of either the Cardassians or Bajoran operatives
looking for an opportunity to revenge themselves on their erstwhile
oppressors, or for that matter, the Maquis trying to derail the
negotiations, Picard was distracted. He forced himself to pay attention,
made a few suggestions, then retreated to his ready room, his mind in
turmoil.
Instantly Q appeared and perched on the edge of Picard's desk with a
concerned look on his face. "What's the matter, Jean-Luc?"
"Q, do you see what I've done? If we're not extraordinarily careful, this
may lead to war after all, and I'm responsible. I've violated any number
of Starfleet regulations, and I would have completely overturned the Prime
Directive if you hadn't prevented me. I don't see how I can keep
functioning in command. I think I should turn myself in . . . for a
court-martial."
Q was livid; it was all he could to restrain himself from hurling Picard's
nearby edition of Shakespeare across the room, if not out into space
altogether. "Jean-Luc, that is the most ri*di*culous and absurd thing I
have ever heard! Can't you ever drag your restricted little mind out of
its military mindset? You have a lot more important things to deal with
than upholding the sanctity of the Starfleet chain of command. And if you
think I'm going to let you destroy yourself, you're sorely mistaken.
Picard, you are so god damned infuriating--if I hadn't promised not to
hurt you, I would be shaking you until your teeth rattled in the hopes of
jolting some sense into you!"
"Damn it, Q! I violated a peace treaty, and I may end up having started a
war! Does that mean *anything* to you? I can't just keep this to myself
and not take responsibility for my actions."
Q's eyes glared, and he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration,
finally placing his face immediately in front of the Captain's. "*My*
actions! It never ceases to amaze me what absolute depths of imbecility
you are capable of, Picard." Q's voice then switched into an exaggerated
version of the inflection and tone of a kindergarten teacher. "Now, take
a deep breath, and listen to Q, and he will try to explain this in terms
*you* can understand." He continued in his normal voice, "When you had
the powers of the Q, Jean-Luc, you were, to all intents and purposes not
yourself. Dr. Crusher, for instance, with her feeble instruments, would
not have been able to register you as a human being. Counselor Troi would
not have been able to sense your emotions. You had the basic elements of
your personality intact, just as I did when I had my powers removed, but
you were not the Captain of the Enterprise; you were, to all intents and
purposes, a Q. We are so far superior in our knowledge and ability that
we transcend your human laws and regulations; it would be ridiculous for
us to be subject to them. When you had our powers, you were operating in
an entirely different dimension; it's absurd to say you should have been
accountable to Starfleet rules. Your situation was so far beyond what
those rules were designed to cover, that they *simply don't apply*. You
were a god, Jean-Luc Picard, if a pretty damned lousy one," Q noted in
that tone of affectionate bemusement that always perplexed Picard, "and
you want to subject the actions you took to a Starfleet military
tribunal? Uh-uh." Q switched back into kindergarten teacher mode, "Now,
let's see if we can find a more *constructive* way of dealing with this
problem. Can you say 'constructive'?"
Picard was speechless with anger but slammed his hand into the desk,
gasped, and began shaking it in a fury while Q mercilessly laughed at
him. "You're so beautiful when you're angry," he said in a seductive
tone, then added, "Jean-Luc, sometimes you're so hopeless I honestly don't
know what I see in you. What happened during your stint as god for a day
is *history*, at least in the limited sense in which you understand it.
*Ancient* history. Now *my* humble opinion is that the most constructive
way you could deal with the consequences of your godlike misbehavior would
be to direct your attention to the future. You have a serious diplomatic
mission ahead of you, and I'd suggest you get your act together, get a
grip on yourself, and make sure you don't screw *it* up." Unable to
resist the impulse to torment Picard further, Q continued in his most
infuriatingly patronizing tone, "Come on, Johnny, make me proud of you.
Give me something to write home about. I'm sure the Continuum will want
to hear all about it."
Picard sat silently looking at Q for a long time. He began shaking his
head slowly with his forehead furrowed in a frown, but after a while, a
tremendous smile broke out on his face. "Q, you are an absolute bloody
bastard. It's a damn good thing you're right . . ."
"Aren't I though?" interrupted Q with a smile.
"But you're still a bastard. At any rate, I will try to put my misguided
attempts at godlike intervention behind me and focus on these
negotiations."
"Jean-Luc, I'm probably not supposed to tell you this, but the original
skirmishes on the border were caused by the Continuum. They wanted to
give you a serious situation and see how you would react to it. And the
rest is history, as they say. But you should realize that this entire
situation was artificially produced in the first place, so you really
aren't responsible for your actions. Unfortunately the Continuum's
meddling has created an actual diplomatic crisis that *you* have deal
with, but it isn't your fault." Q paused for a moment, got up and paced,
then returned, perching on the edge of Picard's desk. His demeanor grew
even more serious.
"There's something else, Jean-Luc. And it looks like I owe you at least a
partial apology for losing my temper with you. Guinan has theorized that
if another member of the Continuum had made the offer to you, you would
have refused. But from me, it was like a challenge you couldn't pass up."
"I would say that's an accurate assessment," mused Picard.
"In that case," continued Q, "then I'm a good deal more responsible for
what happened than I thought. It simply didn't occur to me to turn you
over to one of my colleagues. I figured I was responsible for you. But
if I had been less territorial, none of this would have happened. You're
still a damned fool for accepting the offer, even from me, but I certainly
share some of the blame for not anticipating that. I shouldn't have blown
up at you to the extent that I did, but as you've probably noticed, my
temper tends to get the better of me. I'm sorry."
Picard smiled, "Apology accepted. It sounds like we both reacted
predictably; it just goes to show that neither one of us is perfect . . .
"
"Even if we usually convince ourselves we are," Q finished for him. "Now
I believe you have some work to do, Captain."
"Q, thank you again and again and again. I . . . ah . . . I'm a little
unsure of myself these days, and I'm really grateful to have you around.
Even if you are a bastard, you're a tremendous help to me."
"That's me--service with a smile. Later, Captain. If you need me, I'm at
your beck and call." There was the usual flash, and Q was gone.
* * *
As it turned out, Picard did not have too difficult a time placating the
Cardassians when the peace talks finally took place. He appealed strongly
to their self-interest, urging the benefits of remaining at peace with the
Federation. He convinced the Federation ambassadors to sign any number of
guarantees that the Federation would not interfere with Cardassian
internal affairs. Q had already made a point of reversing Picard's
godlike attempts at brainwashing, so the prison officials and guards were
back to normal, with the exception of having no prisoners to guard,
although they would undoubtedly have some in the near future. Q's actions
in disabling both fleets' weapons systems helped persuade the Cardassians
that there were larger forces involved. Picard hinted that the Q
Continuum had a hand in provoking the original border skirmish, and the
Cardassians were so incensed at this interference by another species, that
it dissipated some of their hostility toward the Federation. If it was
the case that the Continuum was involved, the Cardassian negotiators
speculated among themselves, then it was entirely possible that they would
interfere in any future battles as well. The Cardassian military
certainly didn't want to spend the next several years devoting all their
resources to repeatedly repairing the monumental damage Q had inflicted to
their ships.
Much to Picard's relief, a stronger peace treaty, with more specific
provisions for dealing with perceived violations, was signed and ratified
by the respective governments. He could finally put this whole episode
behind him and move on. It continued to haunt him for days and weeks,
however, leaving him feeling uncharacteristically unsure of himself.
Somehow, whenever he felt hesitant or shaky, that now-familiar voice would
turn up inside his head, offering him reassurance and strength. Q seemed
to know exactly how to handle Picard; having used his powers to put
Picard's mind back together, he had an understanding of the Captain that
was, of course, light-years beyond that of any human intimacy. On certain
occasions, Q simply teased Picard out of his feelings of weakness; on
other occasions, he would offer firm but gentle encouragement. Gradually,
Picard began to feel more and more himself, and he began to enjoy Q's
company more for its own sake and less for the psychological boosts the
entity amply provided.
Q, of course, was not simply operating out of compassion, lest this
behavior on his part seem too out of character. He determined to shower
Picard with benefits on the one hand, while making periodic reminders of
his powers and superiority on the other; he wanted to make himself utterly
indispensable to the object of his affections, but at the same time, he
didn't want Picard to take him for granted. Q was determined to retain
the upper hand, not having learned from his experience with Vash that most
humans are not comfortable in relationships where the power is entirely on
one side. Q's only experience in relationships where both partners are
equally matched was with his own kind, and he could only imagine two kinds
of relationships: an equal one that involved an utter loss of privacy or
one of absolute dominance on one side, preferably his. Romance was either
a contest or a conquest; as yet, he could not conceive of some sort of
middle ground.
He knew that Picard was preoccupied with Beverly Crusher. He knew as well
that Picard's feelings for him were deepening and strengthening daily, but
it hadn't entered Picard's mind to think of Q as a potential romantic
partner and most likely never would--friend, mentor, protector, yes; his
foil in a battle of wits and wills, yes; lover, hardly. Q had been unable
to keep his resolution of respecting Picard's privacy. He inserted
himself into the Captain's dreams, testing Picard's unconscious reactions
to a kiss or a touch on the arm or neck, then eradicating all the details
of the dream before his subject woke up. There was definitely something
there, some reaction, some response, however undefined. Picard would wake
up, troubled, aware that he had been dreaming about his omnipotent
companion, but unable to remember anything more specific. Picard actually
found himself musing about Q quite often. What the entity somehow
completely failed to realize was that with every telepathic contact he
initiated with Picard, whether the Captain was conscious of it or not,
Picard was, without understanding how, becoming more and more aware of Q's
presence in his mind.
* * *
In the meanwhile, repairs to the weapons systems were proceeding at
Starbase 329, and most the crew were getting rotating shore leave on Rydal
IV, the planet below, as it was only the engineering staff who were busy.
On board the Enterprise, when Q was not engaged in his frustrating pursuit
of Picard, he found Data and Guinan to be his most diverting companions.
Data, like Q, did not require sleep, and he was quite happy to share his
free time with a being as knowledgeable and complex as Q. One evening, he
dropped in on Data in his quarters, while the android was playing with his
pet cat, Spot. The cat and the entity were instantly intrigued by one
another. Q had absolutely no experience of pet ownership, and he was both
confused and unsettled by this small creature that roamed imperiously
around Data's quarters. Spot, with the usual perversity of cats in the
presence of people who are uncomfortable around them, headed straight for
Q and began rubbing her head against his hand, as he sat rigidly on the
couch.
Data noted, "I am surprised. Spot is not usually that friendly."
"She's not being friendly," replied Q. "She knows I'm not comfortable
around her, and she's deliberately exacerbating that feeling. Why do you
do that, Beast?" It was not a rhetorical question. After a moment, Q
continued, "She says that cats seek out people who don't like them on
purpose; they enjoy the feeling of power they get from making someone
nervous. I'm actually beginning to like this animal!"
"Can you communicate with her?" queried Data, with surprise.
"Of course; she's as sentient as the rest of you; she just has a much more
narrow range of concerns." Q turned his attention back to Spot, who had
stopped nuzzling, and was sitting directly in front of Q, looking at him
warily. "Nobody ever really listened to you before, did they, Beast?
Tell me more." After another pause, Q translated, "She doesn't have much
use for people; she thinks they think much too highly of themselves. As
far as she's concerned, they're slow and uncoordinated, and they don't
spend enough time thinking about cats' comfort. She resents the fact that
humans regard cats as property, when it is cats who are gracious enough to
allow people to pay cats the homage they deserve. She likes you well
enough--apparently she feels you treat her with the proper respect due one
of her exalted station. But she's somewhat incensed that you don't spend
more time with her; she can't imagine that you have anything more
important to do. This animal is remarkably egotistical and self-centered,
Data--are they all like that?" Q turned back to Spot, saying, "You're OK,
Beast. I think you and I are going to get along just fine."
Data replied to Q's question by noting, "I believe that cats are valued
for their independence and self-sufficiency. I have observed that humans
tend to have a preference for either cats or dogs, perceiving them to have
entirely different qualities."
"Interesting," mused Q. "I don't understand this whole pet ownership
business anyway. Can you explain it?" Suddenly he looked back at the
cat, "Yes, Beastie, I know he doesn't own you; you own him. Now will you
please let us talk?" Spot indicated her assent by jumping into Q's lap,
curling up, and falling asleep. "Now, of course," noted Q, "she expects
me to stay here until she sees fit to wake up. Data, what do you get out
of sharing your quarters with this small tyrant?"
Data responded, "I do not know if I can quantify it exactly. I find Spot
to be a very relaxing companion. She is demanding in certain respects,
but she has no expectations about my behavior. I find when interacting
with humans I am frequently conscious of how my actions are perceived, or
if I am doing the right thing. My friends treat me as if I am human like
them, but I can never forget that I am different. With Spot, those issues
do not arise. We simply enjoy each other's company."
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 6 (2/2)
Date: Fri, 11 Aug 1995 17:36:01 -0800
Message-ID:
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 6, Part 2
Q was absentmindedly stroking the cat. When he realized what he was
doing, he remarked, surprised, "Well, it *is* relaxing. I suspect I have
the same proprietary attitude toward certain humans that Spot resents in
humans having toward her. I used to, or maybe I still do, expect humans
to perform for my amusement. I expected them to be grateful for my
exalted attention, even as I accorded them no respect."
"Well," commented the android, "it sounds as though you have begun to
understand humans' reactions to your treatment of them, just as you have
showed me how Spot perceived me. I certainly did not realize that she had
the degree of sentience you described. No wonder I have been so
unsuccessful in attempting to train her."
"I know just how you feel," replied Q wryly. "I have to tell you, Data,
talking to you is most enlightening. If you don't mind an abrupt change
of subject, can you tell me why you risked your life to save mine when I
was without my powers?"
"I cannot tell you exactly. My programming includes injunctions to
preserve life. If you had been threatening a member of the crew, I would
have done the opposite. But I did not perceive you as an enemy. You were
defenseless, and I am programmed to protect."
"Can you separate your programming from what you think of as your
identity? Or is your programming your identity?"
"That is a difficult question. When my brother Lore disabled my ethical
programming, I lost the capacity to distinguish between good and evil. I
felt anger, and I felt pleasure at killing. It was very disorienting to
realize my behavior could be so easily modified by someone with evil
intentions. My goal would be to transcend the limitations of my
programming to the extent that I could prevent that from happening again."
"In that respect you're very human, Data. Isn't that what humans are
trying to do? To transcend their genetic and biological programming? And
I can tell from recent experiences that humans similarly can act in a
completely uncharacteristic fashion given extreme enough circumstances.
You shouldn't feel responsible for what happened to you."
"Thank you for telling me that. I do not exactly feel responsible, but I
would like to use that experience to protect myself, and others, from a
similar circumstance. If you do not mind, I would like to ask you why you
gave us such a difficult time in our early encounters. I perceived that
you seemed to derive enjoyment from the fear and anxiety the crew
experienced."
Q nodded, "Not enjoyment exactly, but stimulation. Let me give you a bit
of history, although I'll have to oversimplify, as I'm covering eons
here. Early in our development, before we called ourselves the Q
Continuum, we were more driven, more ambitious, more like humans. My
species was motivated by an intense desire for evolution and progress--we
were eager to transcend the limitations posed by space and time, and over
time, we did. We became nearly omnipotent. This all occurred before I
became conscious. As the Q became more powerful, on the whole, they lost
most of that ambition and drive. We took it upon ourselves to oversee the
development of more primitive species, but that has become what you might
call an administrative function. We research other species and
occasionally take steps to guide their development in directions we think
are appropriate, but on the whole, the Q don't do a whole lot. When you
can have whatever you want whenever you want it, effortlessly, there
certainly isn't much to aspire toward. Most of us are pretty content and
set in our ways; some take a genuine interest in the details of
maintaining a certain type of order in the galaxy. Mostly we travel and
study other species, report back to the Continuum, and have endless
meetings about whether a particular species warrants more involved
research than mere observation or needs some kind of action taken to nudge
them in the right directions.
Well, as I said, most of my fellow Q are fairly content. I've always been
an anomaly--I've always had an excess of what you might call mental
energy. You couldn't call it ambition or aspiration, because there's
nothing I can aspire to that I can't get the moment it occurs to me to
want it. But I've always had a kind of restlessness that didn't permit me
to fit into the routines of the Continuum. I still don't understand this
entirely, but I think I mostly harrassed less-powerful species for lack of
anything better to do. I didn't have enough of a sense of empathy to see
them as anything but toys for my amusement, just as a child might collect
insects. Of course, in the process I was giving the Continuum a bad name
throughout the galaxy, and I think that was part of my motivation too. I
found the complacency of my fellow Q really irritating, and I was trying
to rebel in some fashion, only I've never found a really constructive way
to do so. When humans came to our attention, it was the opinion of one of
my colleagues that I be assigned them as a research project. The idea was
that my own restlessness might give me a better handle on humans' drive to
explore, but I think the real reason was just to give me something to do,
and even more specifically, it was a form of punishment for my misdeeds.
My first two encounters with you were set up in such a way that I was
guaranteed to fail. I was too arrogant to acknowledge that humans had any
competence whatsoever, and I think the Continuum wanted an excuse to
discipline me. *They*'ve been concerned about human development all
along; what they didn't realize is that I would become as interested in
humans as I did. They certainly have their liabilities, but they're a
good deal more diverting than my fellow Q are. So here I am. Frankly I
feel more at home on the Enterprise than I ever did in the Continuum."
"That cannot be from the welcome that has been accorded you," remarked
Data bluntly but accurately. "Forgive me for asking, as I believe this
would be construed as a very personal question, but is not the interest in
humans that you describe directed at one human in particular, rather than
the species as a whole?"
Q laughed, "Mr. Data, I must commend you on your powers of observation.
But if I were to start talking to you about my fascination with your
Captain, you'd miss your next shift on the bridge, which I believe is
coming up shortly. Let's save it for another time. Good evening, Data."
"Good evening, Q. This conversation has been very informative."
* * *
Data was not the only crew member who was finding Q to be an intriguing
and informative companion. Deanna Troi decided to take Q up on his offer
to help her better control her empathic abilities, and she cornered him
the following evening in Ten-Forward, while he was talking to Guinan.
"You're so popular these days," remarked Guinan, and Q raised his eyebrows
as he turned to follow Deanna to a table.
"What's that you're drinking?" he asked.
"Valerian root tea."
"Ugh." Q gestured toward Guinan. "I might as well be sociable and join
the Counselor in a drink."
"And what will that be?"
"Anything but that," he said, gesturing toward Deanna's tea; "surprise me."
Guinan smiled and returned to the bar to make Q's drink.
Q turned to Troi and said, "If I'm going to work with you on your empathic
capacities, you're going to have to surrender a good bit of privacy. I
have to probe your mind so I know just what you're capable of and what
needs work. I'll try to avoid any secrets though, and if I stumble on
any, I'll keep them to myself."
"I understand," noted Deanna, as Guinan returned with Q's drink.
"That's quite a color, Guinan--what do you call that?"
"It's a Eustacian berry daquiri. Enjoy."
Guinan returned to the bar, while Q explained, "This whole eating and
drinking thing is new to me. I had to give myself taste buds to see the
point of it at all, and I do rather enjoy it occasionally."
"And you don't have to worry about your weight."
"True. Another advantage of omnipotence that hadn't occurred to me."
Q sipped his drink absentmindedly while probing Troi's mind. After a few
moments he remarked, "That experience you had in the nacelle tube must
have been frightening."
"You're telling me," replied the Counselor. "I almost jumped into the
plasma stream the way Lieutenant Kwan did. The whole experience was
overwhelming--it felt so real, but it was only going on inside my mind."
"Well, in a certain respect, it was real, but that's another matter. It
told you something about your feelings about your Klingon friend, didn't
it? But what we need to work on here is strengthening your ability to
block and channel what you receive empathically. Your problem is that you
don't merely sense others' emotions, but you frequently allow yourself to
experience them as well. You're just asking to be overwhelmed. You're
leaving yourself far too open. Any being with half-decent telepathic
ability could easily convince you to kill yourself or someone else; they
could simply flood you with their desires and emotions. The blocks you do
have just aren't good enough."
Deanna nodded seriously. What Q was saying was true enough. And she knew
she had no way of preventing an even moderately powerful telepath from
reading her mind. At the same time, she didn't particularly enjoy being
reminded of her vulnerability. "There are drugs which help . . . "
"Uh-uh," Q interrupted brusquely. "The drugs your friend Beverly has
strengthen your defenses a bit but only at the price of losing some of
your capacity. Look, I know you're a counselor--it's important to you
professionally to be able to empathize with others. But humans have that
capacity without being empathic. What you want to be able to do is use
your ability to sense emotions (and more perhaps eventually), while
keeping them separate from yourself. You have to *read* them without
*feeling* them yourself. You want to be able to erect defenses without
compromising your ability to read what others are feeling. You need to
construct a mental image of a barrier that you can see through or over,
but that protects your mind from being invaded. You have to make that
image real, and every day you need to work on strengthening that
barrier." Q closed his eyes for a moment. "Let's try this. I just
sampled your mother's mind-reading capacity. . . "
"You did what?"
"I just briefly probed your mother's mind to sense how powerful her
mind-reading abilities are. She's fine, by the way. Now pay attention.
I'm your mother . . ."
Deanna smiled, then apologized, "Okay, I'm paying attention."
"Good. It's about time. I'm your mother, and I'm trying to find out any
number of *sordid* details about your love life, whether actual or
potential, and I'm bound to tease you about them at the next family
gathering, if not try to make you change your mind altogether. I suspect
your mother would be even *less* impressed your current romantic interest
than I am. So I'm Lwaxana, and I'm trying to get all the information I
can, and your job is to keep me out. You need to visualize some kind of
barrier that you can maintain. Since we're just starting, I'm telling you
ahead of time. Ready?"
Deanna nodded. Amazingly, insistently, she felt her mother's powerful
mind intruding upon her own. Q was sitting across from her, but in his
mental projection, he *was* her mother. Deanna forced herself to
concentrate. She envisioned a two-way mirror, whereby she could observe
the other person, who would only be able to see his or her own
reflection. She felt her mother's mind trying to see through the mirror,
and she continued to project her mother's image back, keeping her own mind
free from invasion. This worked for a few moments. She sensed her mother
trying to dart around the mirror, to catch her by surprise behind it, and
she forced herself to make the mirror wider, longer, and taller. Deanna
had completely forgotten she was in Ten-Forward, her concentration was so
intense. Suddenly, with a sound of shattering glass echoing through her
mind, she felt her mother break right through the mirror and begin raiding
her private thoughts. "Damn!"
"Not bad, actually," remarked Q, breaking the telepathic connection he had
made. "This is going to take some work, but at least we have a foundation
to build upon. I liked the mirror thing, but you should experiment with
some others too."
Deanna was a little shaken. "How did you do that? I mean . . . "
"What? Oh, your mother. I can do just about anything. That was easy."
Deanna blinked. For an instant she saw Lwaxana sitting across from her in
Q's place. Then he changed back to familiar form. "I can mimic anyone.
I can probe another person so thoroughly that I can replicate that person
down to the smallest detail of both appearance and behavior. During our
little test, I didn't see any point in taking on your mother's appearance,
so I simply mimicked her mind-reading abilities and the way she would
react if you tried to keep her out. You know, if you do get better at
this, she won't take it kindly."
"I know," laughed Deanna, "but I would like the privacy."
At that moment Worf entered Ten-Forward. He was not pleased to see Q and
Deanna at a table together. "Deanna!" he exclaimed as he strode up to the
table, "You should be careful. He's not to be trusted." Then he glared
at Q, adding, "If you do one thing to harm her . . ."
Q sighed, shaking his head, "If I had it in mind to harm her, there's not
a single thing you could do to stop me. I could turn you into a bowl of
Klingon gagh with a thought. You're wasting your breath making threats
you can't fulfill."
"Worf!" snapped Deanna, half-annoyed and half-flattered at his
protectiveness, "I believe I can spend my free time talking to whomever I
choose. If you're worried, I have no romantic interest in Q. He's
helping me improve my empathic skills, and you should be grateful. Don't
you remember? I almost killed myself when I was investigating Lieutenant
Kwan's suicide, just as he did. If Q can help me be less susceptible to
being overwhelmed by empathic experiences like that, I'll be a lot better
off."
Worf's demeanor softened, and he said gently, "I'm sorry Deanna. I just
don't trust him, but you are of course entitled to make up your own mind."
Q was about to make some sarcastic rejoinder to Worf, when Picard walked
in. Instantly he forgot about his tablemates. Picard was far more
interesting than Worf and Troi combined.
"Hello Q, Lieutenant, Counselor," Picard greeted the three in turn.
"Having a little party?"
"Not exactly," growled Worf. Just then Worf received a summons from Riker
to the bridge and departed reluctantly, glancing back at Deanna.
"I'll see you later," she smiled.
Q, meanwhile, had invited Picard to join them. As the Captain sat down,
he asked, "Q, are you giving Worf a hard time again?"
"Moi? I was giving our fair Counselor a lesson in focusing her empathic
abilities, when the Lieutenant came charging up, once again opining that
he doesn't trust me. I believe I've been exercising remarkable restraint
at these provocations."
Deanna remarked, "Well, for my sake, try not to vaporize him, all right?"
"I'll do my best," replied Q.
--
Atara Stein
"All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 7 (1/1)
Date: Fri, 11 Aug 1995 21:17:11 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 7
A couple of mornings later, Q was lying on his bed reading. He could, of
course, absorb the contents of a book instantaneously, but he was trying
to see what the experience of reading was like. Even so, his speed was
awesome, so Picard had provided him with a series of novels, philosophical
works, books of poetry, and the like, insisting that if Q wanted to
understand human nature, he should study human writings, artworks, and
music. His reading was interrupted by the door chime, however. Q was in
the habit of not wearing clothes when he was in his quarters, since he
didn't see much point to them, but after he heard the chime, a lavish
dressing gown materialized around him. "Yes?" he responded lazily.
Picard entered the room, carrying two backpacks, which he put down by the
door. "Good morning, Q. I've decided to take a day or two off and go
down to Rydal to do some hiking--there's some beautiful scenery. I want
to be out in real air, with real trees, and real streams, and real ground
under my feet. Care to join me?"
"Hiking?" queried Q. "I don't believe I've ever gone hiking. If there's
a place I want to get to, I normally just go there."
"Of course," noted Picard, "you would. But if you want to understand
humans, here's an opportunity. For us, in many of our recreational
pursuits as well as more serious ones, the experience, the process of
getting somewhere or working toward a goal is as significant and as
enjoyable, if not more so, than actually attaining it. In hiking, the
physical exertion and the sights one sees along the way make the ultimate
destination all the more rewarding."
Q still looked puzzled. "Well, I still don't really get the point, but
I'll be glad to give it a try. Of course, it's not going to be physical
exertion for me, but maybe I can watch you get worn out and try to imagine
what's enjoyable about it."
"I'll have you know my stamina is excellent," snapped Picard.
"Of course, Jean-Luc, of course," murmured Q soothingly. "What's in
those?" he gestured toward the backpacks.
"Supplies. Food, water, thermal blankets, and the like."
"You don't actually expect me to *carry* one of those do you? You must
realize that I can just provide whatever you need whenever you need it.
*I* don't *carry* things."
Picard laughed. "Yes, but I want you to have the full experience. This
is *my* expedition, Q. If you're coming, we're going to do it my way."
"Yes, Captain," returned Q, snapping off a sharp salute. "Your word is my
command."
"Well, you might want to get dressed."
In a flash, Q was wearing khaki hiking shorts, an olive-green t-shirt, and
hiking boots. He spun slowly, asking in a demure voice, "Will I do?"
"You look lovely," declared Picard, tossing Q one of the backpacks.
"Let's go. I have another adventure awaiting you."
"What's that?"
"The transporters are down because of the repairs. We're taking a
shuttlecraft."
"Am I taking my life in my hands?" queried Q.
"Oh ye of little faith," retorted Picard. "I'm going to give you a ride
even you will see fit to write home about. And don't offer to teleport us
to the surface . . . "
"I know, we're doing this your way. I can't wait."
At that moment Beverly Crusher's voice came over Picard's comm badge.
"Captain, I understand you're taking a shuttlecraft down to the surface.
Counselor Troi and I were wondering if we could hitch a ride with you."
"Certainly. Meet us in shuttlebay 3 in five minutes."
As the four entered the shuttlecraft, Crusher asked, "Can you drop us off
at the university? I have a meeting with Dr. Reynolds--he's doing some
fascinating research with introns. He's offered to show me his latest
results in exchange for some tissue samples from the time the crew was
infected with Barclay's Protomorphosis Syndrome. And Deanna's having
lunch with an old college friend who's a psychology professor there."
"Well, I'd wear your seat belts, ladies," remarked Q, "our Captain seems
to have it in mind to show off."
"Yes," laughed Beverly, "Jean-Luc has always been proud of his piloting skills."
Picard looked at his passengers, rolled his eyes in exasperation, and got
clearance for departure. After the huge shuttlebay doors gaped open, the
small craft shot out. Q noted with amusement that Picard was, in fact,
showing off, piloting the shuttlecraft manually. They weaved at
impressive speeds around the ships in the space dock, then zoomed down
toward the planet surface, while Q asked idly, whether starship captains
ever got speeding tickets.
Picard smoothly landed the craft at the university's landing pad. As the
women walked toward the main campus, Beverly asked Deanna, "Have you
noticed that whenever the Captain's around, Q is oblivious to everything
else? He never took his eyes off Jean-Luc the whole way."
"Yes," noted Deanna, "The other night I was talking to Q in
Ten-Forward--he's helping me with refining my empathic abilities, and he's
actually being very patient--but when the Captain came in, it was as if I
ceased to exist. Not very flattering, I have to confess."
At that moment, both women heard a voice speaking inside their heads.
"//Now, now, ladies, it isn't polite to gossip behind someone's back,
particularly when that someone has the capacity to read minds even at
interstellar distances. You may congratulate yourselves on your powers of
observation, but I would advise you to keep your insights to yourselves.
Trust me, you don't want to give me an excuse to demonstrate just how many
of *your* secrets I could unearth. Why I can tell you things about
yourselves that you don't even know yet. The subconscious mind is a
wondrous place, and I just *love* to explore.//"
"Is that a promise or a threat, Q?" laughed Deanna. "But, don't worry.
Beverly and I are professionals--we're used to keeping confidences."
"//I'm glad to hear it.//"
"//Q?//" queried Deanna mentally, "//I do think we should talk about this
at some point.//"
"//That figures. And if I am to confide in you about my predeliction for
your Captain, are you going to reciprocate and explain to my satisfaction
your unaccountable attraction to a certain Klingon?//"
"//Okay, okay, Q, I get your point.//"
"You were still talking to him, weren't you?" asked Beverly.
"Yes. He's not so bad when you get to know him. I'm firmly convinced
that his bark is a lot worse than his bite, to coin a phrase."
"I'm not so sure about that."
As Deanna and Beverly went to their separate appointments, Picard was
giving Q a shuttlecraft tour of Rydal IV. The Captain was
uncharacteristically exuberant, and he buzzed mountain peaks and skimmed
oceans in an almost adolescent display of his prowess. "You never cease
to amaze me, Jean-Luc. You and I are even more alike than I thought,"
remarked Q.
"I'm not trying to show off!" declared Picard hotly, "I'm simply releasing
tension--the past several days have been rather stressful, if you can
understand that."
"Of course you're not trying to show off," replied Q in his most
insinuatingly soothing tone, "the Captain of the USS Enterprise would
never do such a thing. It wouldn't be very responsible of him, now would
it?" Continuing his train of thought to himself, he mused, "//I can think
of better ways to release tension than flying this little bucket of bolts
around, but if it makes Jean-Luc happy, I might as well enjoy the ride.//"
"Q, be quiet for a change, and look." Picard gestured out the window to a
chain of mountain lakes, shimmering with a startling purple hue. "That's
quite a color, isn't it? The Rydals have always had a strong
environmental consciousness, and as they developed new technologies, they
simultaneously developed the means to prevent ecological damage. So their
lakes and streams have never had the types of pollution problems we used
to have on Earth."
"It is beautiful," acknowledged Q.
Picard flew the small craft lower, following the chain of lakes until he
approached a flat meadow in a mountain valley where he landed. "All
right, Q, it's time for you to enjoy the wonders of nature from our
limited human perspective."
Q made a face, then slipped his arms through the straps of the backpack.
"Whatever you say, Captain." As they struck off toward the trail Picard
had selected, both lapsed into silence. Their surroundings were so quiet,
that speaking aloud seemed a violation, and, as if by unspoken agreement,
they conversed silently, Q projecting into Picard's mind and reading his
responses.
As they followed a trail alongside a stream, Q studied Picard, finally
asking, "//Why did you ask me to go with you?//"
"//Why don't *you* tell me?//"
"//Are you inviting me to read your mind?//"
"//I figured you already were.//"
"//No, I'm only reading your responses. I told you I would try to respect
your privacy. And I want to hear it in your own words.//"
"//I invited you because I wanted to be a good host, but I also wanted
your company, and I wanted to reflect on recent events away from the
ship. I wanted to be out in nature and get some exercise in a real
environment, but I also wanted to have you along to talk to so I could get
to know you better. And I thought it would be good for you to do
something on my terms instead of the other way around.//"
"//Fair enough.//"
"//You see//," explained Picard, now feeling perfectly at ease with this
silent form of communication, "//if you simply transport yourself to your
destination, you miss a great deal along the way. I'm sure you've
experienced wonders of a magnitude I can't begin to imagine. But really
observing something small in detail can be wondrous too. The English poet
and artist, William Blake, described it as 'To see a World in a Grain of
Sand / And a Heaven in a Wild Flower.' I so rarely have the opportunity
to clear my mind and have that type of experience.//"
"//I'm afraid I don't understand.//"
"//Look//," said Picard, removing his backpack and casting himself down on
the ground. Q crouched down next to him. The grass was studded with
myriad tiny blue flowers with minuscule petals and leaves. "//Just look
at those flowers. Don't compare them with other sights you've seen. Just
look at them. Notice the details, how the petals flare out from the stem,
how the leaves surround it. There's such wonderful variety in this
galaxy, it's a shame not to notice more of it.//"
Q did try, and for a moment he felt something of the sensation Picard
described, but it didn't last more than an instant. Having memorized the
details of the flower he was observing, he, without trying to, created a
perfect version of it in his brain, with more brilliant colors and more
perfectly shaped petals. The real thing paled by comparison. He shook
his head a little sadly and turned to Picard, "//I can share your feeling
of awe to an extent, but I really can't feel anything like it on my own.
I can't be dazzled by anything in nature because I can create a more
perfect version of it, instantly.//" A flawless tiny flower with
startlingly blue petals and shimmering, perfect, jewel-like leaves
appeared in his hand. As Picard watched, the petals opened up, as an
impossible array of colors rippled around them, followed by what appeared
to be infinitesimal stars glowing from the flower's petals.
"//That's amazing; I've never seen anything like it//," conceded Picard,
"//but there is a type of beauty in that which is not flawless, a kind of
beauty in imperfection as well.//"
"//Well, that must be true//," thought Q to himself. "//Jean-Luc is far
from perfect, and yet I'm dazzled by him.//" He then responded to his
companion, "//I agree, but it takes a certain leap of imagination to
really appreciate that kind of beauty. For me, there is no distinction
between the literal and the imagined; anything I can imagine I can simply
materialize. I can enjoy observing the pleasure *you* get from these
sights, but I'm never going to have the same sensation on my own.//"
"//A pity//," remarked Picard, "//I'm afraid I don't envy you your
condition. I find it hard to believe that it seemed at all appealing to
me. No offense.//"
"//None taken. You adjusted to being a Q even more poorly than I adjusted
to being human. Fortunately in both cases, the transformations were
temporary. My condition does have certain advantages, however//," noted Q
as he leapt to his feet, then extended a hand to help Picard up. "//For
instance, I'll always have hair.//"
Picard laughed as he hoisted his backpack. "//Ah, yes, yet another
significant goal for humans' future evolution--'charting the unknown
possibilities of existence' and preventing baldness.//"
"//I told you your species has a long way to go//," remarked Q as they
continued along the trail. As they walked, Picard delighted in breathing
actual air and in observing the sights around him, but Q only had eyes for
his companion. The scenery was a pleasant backdrop, nothing more.
Hearing a sound of rushing water in the distance, Picard struck off in its
direction and was enchanted to find a waterfall cascading into a pool of
that impossibly purple water. Q was equally enchanted but for a different
reason. Observing that Picard had put down his backpack and was standing
near the edge of the pool, gazing raptly at the waterfall, Q opined, "//It
seems to me that a pool like this must be here for a reason. And there's
only one reason I can think of.//"
Before Picard could exclaim, "Q, don't you dare!" Q had, with a light but
effective touch, pushed his companion into the water. Picard's reflexes
were faster than Q had anticipated, and he had enough time to grab his
tormentor's arm and yank him into the water with him. As he sputtered to
the surface, Picard heard a mocking voice echo through his mind, "//If
you're going to invite me on a hiking trip, then you should have
anticipated trouble.//"
"//Is that so?//" returned Picard, further drenching his hiking partner
with a mighty splash. Away from the Enterprise and his command duties,
and in reaction to the strain of the past several days, Picard was
uncharacteristically giddy and uninhibited. This would not have been the
case had he been aware of the extent and nature of Q's interest in him,
but as it was, he figured that Q knew him inside and out anyway, and he
had nothing to lose. After engaging in a vigorous splashing contest, the
two began enjoying the water in their own characteristic fashions. Picard
swam laps back and forth, relishing the exercise and the sensation of
plowing purposefully through the water. Q, by contrast, floated lazily on
his back, his arms behind his back, as if he were on a raft. He was
taking great pleasure in watching Picard's lean figure swim past, as the
Captain's wet uniform highlighted his flowing muscles. At one point,
without stopping, Picard demanded, "//What are you smiling about, Q?//"
"//You don't want to know, Jean-Luc, believe me.//"
"//No doubt//," came Picard's reply.
When they finally emerged from the water, Q instantly dried their drenched
clothes, figuring it was the least he could do. Picard's unexpected
baptism had somehow altered his state of mind to the point where he felt
completely relaxed with Q, as if he had found a long-lost brother and had
finally gotten over the awkwardness caused by their separation. As they
continued up the trail, they walked almost touching. While Q's usual
violations of his personal space normally put Picard on edge, he was so
transformed by the release of tension his swim had caused, that it seemed
perfectly natural to be in such close physical proximity to his
companion. Blissfully unaware of Q's romantic impulses toward him, Picard
allowed a wave of affection and gratitude for Q to wash through him, with
a sensation of comfortable intimacy.
When they reached the spot where Picard purposed to spend the night, the
sunset was about to begin, and the pair sat close together, hands clasped
over their knees, elbows touching. Watching the sunset, they felt no need
to talk, but simply to absorb each other's presence in harmonious
silence. As it grew dark, Q lay on his back watching the stars emerge,
while Picard ate his dinner. Q had taken one look at the rations Picard
had provided and disdainfully refused them. Since he didn't need to eat
or drink, he only did so if he was being offered a particular treat that
would provoke an intense sensation. This time, however, he merely glanced
at Picard's meal and muttered, "How can you eat that stuff?"
As the night air grew colder, Picard's shoulders began to stiffen from
carrying the backpack all day. He was so comfortable with Q's presence
that it seemed perfectly natural to him when the entity sat down behind
him and began massaging his neck. Normally, Picard felt a sufficient
degree of wariness and alertness around Q that the merest touch would have
made him jump; this evening, however, he had completely lost his usual
hyper-awareness of the extent of Q's power. As Q erased the soreness from
his neck and shoulders, Picard's eyes began to close. Q reached into the
backpack and pulled out a sleeping pad and thermal blanket. Picard was
suddenly so sleepy he rolled over onto the sleeping pad and didn't
register Q gently covering him with the blanket. Q, of course, did not
need to sleep. He spent the night sitting up next to his sleeping
companion, one hand draped lightly on Picard's arm, in an
uncharacteristically blissful state. His usual restlessness and nervous
energy had evaporated, and he could have sat there happily for days,
watching his favorite sleep, his eyes lingering on the angular beauty of
Picard's face.
The next morning, Picard woke up to the aroma of hot Earl Grey tea. As he
rubbed his eyes and sat up, Q handed him a mug, smiling, and greeting him
with "Morning, Captain. Did you sleep well?"
Picard nodded. "Thank-you for the tea."
"Thank-*you*, Jean-Luc."
"For what?"
"For inviting me. I can't really explain what I'm feeling, but it's
something I can't remember feeling for an unimaginably long time."
"I'm glad you accepted the invitation," replied Picard. He was somewhat
puzzled by Q's enigmatic remarks, but he realized there was no way he was
going to get anything out of Q that the entity did not choose to reveal.
After packing their belongings, they headed downhill on a different trail,
sometimes conversing silently, more often not. They were comfortable
enough together that they had no need to sustain a conversation. The way
down was more direct than the path they had taken up, and they reached the
shuttlecraft by early afternoon and headed back toward the Enterprise.
Back in his quarters, Picard unpacked his backpack, when a tiny glittering
object fell out. It was the flower Q had created, and as Picard picked it
up, it went through the same array of transformations that Picard had
previously witnessed, then the tiny stars blinked out, and the flower
returned to its original blue color. Picard smiled, both surprised and
touched at the gift Q had surreptitiously given him, and placed the flower
in a safe place.
* * *
While Q and Picard were on their expedition, an alien entity loitered in
the far reaches of the Alpha Quadrant, its energy close to restored after
its long journey. Soon it would begin moving again, taking its time,
seeking out prey. It had been a long time since it had had its boredom
alleviated.
--
Atara Stein
"It brings a sense of order and stability to my universe to know that you're still a pompous
ass . . . and a damn sexy man."--Philippa Louvois to Picard in "The Measure of a Man"
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 8 (1/2)
Date: Sun, 13 Aug 1995 16:02:11 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 8, Part 1
After showering and changing, Picard stepped squarely back into a
businesslike demeanor. He consulted with La Forge about the ongoing
repairs to the weapons systems, made some suggestions to Worf about
security for the upcoming negotiations with the Cardassians, and otherwise
made his presence felt on board the ship. The Enterprise would be ready
to depart Rydal in a few days, and it was time to shake off the lethargy
the long layover had caused in most of the crew.
As Picard was finishing up his log entry at the end of the day, a message
popped up on his computer terminal. It read, "Jean-Luc, would you care to
join me for a drink in Ten-Forward at 2100 hours? Beverly." He smiled;
she had left him about 20 minutes to finish his work and freshen up, and
he was quite happy to get out of the confines of his ready room. He
wondered momentarily what Q was doing with himself, but he figured Q was
an adult (or some approximation thereof) and didn't need to be amused
every minute.
Joining the doctor in Ten-Forward, Picard ordered drinks, and asked, "And
was your meeting with Dr. Reynolds informative?"
"Yes, his research is quite fascinating. And I was very impressed with
the facilities at the university. Medical students certainly have it much
easier these days. But what I'm curious about is your hiking trip. How
did it go?"
"Very well. Q is a very diverting companion. I keep surprising myself at
how relaxed I can feel with him."
"Do you trust him, Jean-Luc?"
"Yes, actually, I do. Although these are the last words I would have ever
imagined myself using to describe him, he's being really quite considerate
and thoughtful. When I awoke this morning, he had a mug of tea waiting
for me. Granted, doing me favors is effortless for him, but he seems
genuinely concerned about my comfort and welfare. I do have to warn you,
though, if we're talking about him, he's probably eavesdropping, and if I
say too many nice things about him, he's bound to cause some sort of
trouble later, just so he can't be accused of getting soft."
"I'm having a hard time imagining the two of you chatting together. What
do you talk about?" asked Beverly as she sipped her drink.
"Well, much of it is comparing perspectives. I guess I almost feel sorry
for him. Since he has seen so much, and since he can pretty much create
anything he wants, he doesn't have the capacity to be moved or awed by
anything in nature. I told him I don't envy his condition."
Beverly nodded. "Deanna's finding him easy to get along with too. I
don't know, Jean-Luc. I can't quite bring myself to trust him. He's
caused us so much suffering."
"True. I don't believe he ever meant to harm us, though. Get a reaction,
yes. Try to force us to acknowledge his superiority, yes. Teach us a
lesson of his own devising, yes. But I don't think he really intended
harm. He's also had to act as the representative of the Continuum. As we
have seen with Q, they can be quite coercive when one of their own doesn't
acquit himself according to their dictates. And, if you recall, they were
prepared to assassinate Amanda if she didn't meet their standard. I
suspect many of Q's attitudes arise from the fact that he is as much a
product of *his* environment as we are. He *is* changing though. As I
said during the conference, he has made himself the mediator between the
Continuum and us, and he has taken our side against them on more than one
occasion."
"What happened, Jean-Luc, during the border confrontation with the Cardassians?"
Picard put his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, Beverly, I don't know if
I'm ready to talk to you about it. I did something very foolish, I let my
pride get the better of me and then I . . . well, I think I wasn't
myself. I can't . . ." Beverly put her hand on Picard's, and he clasped
it tightly. Picard continued, "but Q has earned my lifelong gratitude. I
wouldn't be here now if it weren't for him."
"Well, in that case, I have reason to be grateful to him as well."
The Captain and the doctor smiled at each other, their hands clasped.
Beverly was extremely uneasy at Picard's reluctance to confide in her, and
she was additionally uneasy at Q's obvious attraction to Picard. But as
to the first cause of her uneasiness, she knew she had to trust Jean-Luc
to know what was best for himself, and as to the second, she had no
intention of being the person to enlighten him.
Q, meanwhile, was lying on the saucer section, chin in hands,
eavesdropping, as Picard had suspected, on the Captain's conversation. He
decided to keep his reactions to himself, however. When Picard and
Crusher clasped hands, Q felt a surge of jealousy lurch through him. He
tried to distract himself by wondering what would have happened if he had,
as he once told Picard he should have, appeared as a woman. He wouldn't
have found it too difficult to provoke Picard's interest, he figured. It
would have been easy enough to create himself as the type of woman Picard
would be attracted to--both intelligent and attractive, independent,
self-sufficient, passionate, and challenging. He took a kind of wickedly
sadistic pleasure in imagining Picard's reaction if he *had* seduced the
Captain in female form then resumed his usual appearance. Picard would
have been utterly horrified, and Q had no intention of violating Picard's
growing trust in him to that extent. But he was not above finding the
notion perversely amusing in theory even if he didn't intend to put it
into practice. At any rate, Q really couldn't envision himself remaining
content in the form of a human female. Even though gender did not have
anything like the same significance in the Continuum, he had always
envisioned himself in masculine terms.
Q turned his attention away from his reflections long enough to observe
that Picard kissed Beverly good-night, but did not follow her into her
quarters. Q felt relieved and then immediately felt furious for feeling
such a human emotion as jealousy. He passed his fingers over his lips
with a very human-sounding sigh, then returned in a wrathful mood to his
quarters.
* * *
Q was reclining on his bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying his
hiking expedition with the Captain in his mind. Suddenly he sat up with
alarm and rematerialized instantly in Picard's quarters, fortunately
remembering to acquire some clothes in the process. Picard was in the
throes of a nightmare and was obviously distressed. Q sat near the head
of the bed, gently waking him. Picard's eyes opened suddenly, but as soon
as he recognized Q, he began to relax. "I was dreaming . . . the Borg . .
.." he murmured incoherently.
"I know," said Q softly, holding Picard's hands. "How often do you have
these nightmares?"
"Every two or three months, I think. It's either the Borg or my captivity
with the Cardassians. I don't take to helplessness and violation very
well, apparently," replied Picard, trying to assume a forced nonchalance.
"I can stop the nightmares from coming back. It won't erase your memory
of the events--you just won't dream about them."
"I'd appreciate that."
Q stared intently at Picard for a moment, then relaxed his gaze. "No more
nightmares. Courtesy of Q."
"Thank-you," said Picard, with a palpable relief.
Q got up and began to pace, running his fingers through his hair. "I feel
responsible for what happened to you with the Borg. The Continuum
wouldn't let me help you, and I was too much of a coward to defy them,
when I was already on parole. I don't think I can ever begin to convey to
you how sorry I am, both for exposing you to the Borg in the first place
and for not stopping them from hurting you."
"If you feel responsible for that," returned Picard bluntly, "then you
ought to feel responsible for the lives of almost 11,000 people who were
killed in the Borg attack. What happened to me is utterly trivial by
comparison."
"I know that, but I don't have it in me genuinely to understand the
significance of the lives of 11,000 people. I'm sorry, but that's just
how I am. Your suffering ripped me apart more than anything I've
experienced in centuries, but my attachment doesn't extend to your
species."
"When the Continuum was testing me last time, with the temporal paradox,
you were only helping *me*? The elimination of an entire species didn't
concern you?"
"Not a whole lot, I'm afraid."
"Well, Q, I do hope that you learn the value and significance of human
life, and I am going to take it upon myself to educate you as long as you
reside on board my ship. You have a lot to learn, my friend."
Q gazed raptly at Picard. With a small burst of light, a notebook and pen
appeared in his hand. "Oui, mon professeur, when do my lessons start?"
Picard smiled. "You know, I didn't mean to be harsh, Q. I *don't* hold
you responsible for the Borg incursion. Undoubtedly it would have
happened much later if it weren't for your fit of pique in Ten-Forward,
but when it did happen, we would have been completely unprepared. The
results might have been even more catastrophic when the Borg did show up."
"That's very kind of you, Captain. But I don't often feel guilty, so
allow me to indulge myself in this matter. I've caused you a lot of
grief, and I do regret it . . . "
"Although you enjoyed yourself thoroughly at the time."
"Data suggested the same thing, but it wasn't really enjoyment, Jean-Luc.
I was trying to alleviate a boredom so pronounced you can't begin to
imagine it, but I can't say I found tormenting you exactly enjoyable.
Stimulating, yes, but not a pleasure in a positive sense. You know I
really was sincere in my desire to join your crew."
"You offered to renounced your powers."
"Yes, in a moment of weakness. I was that desperate for companionship.
Having actually experienced human frailty, however, I'm infinitely
relieved you didn't take me up on my offer. And speaking of my powers,
you look like you could use some rest, Jean-Luc. I can guarantee you a
restful sleep for the rest of the night."
"Well, I think I'll take you up on that."
"What time do you want to wake up?"
"0600 hours."
"Consider it done. Good-night, Jean-Luc."
"Thank-you, Q. Good-night."
* * *
--
Atara Stein
"It brings a sense of order and stability to my universe to know that you're still a pompous
ass . . . and a damn sexy man."--Philippa Louvois to Picard in "The Measure of a Man"
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 8 (2/2)
Date: Sun, 13 Aug 1995 16:07:27 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 277
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NNTP-Posting-Host: user33.lightside.com
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 8, Part 2
Within a few more days, the repairs to the weapons systems were complete,
and the Enterprise was dispatched on its delicate diplomatic mission with
the Cardassians. Once those talks were complete, the Enterprise was to
return to Angria, to complete the process of evaluating the Angrians'
petition to join the Federation. En route, the ship and its personnel
returned to normal routines, and people were beginning to take Q's
presence as a matter of course. Guinan, Data, and Troi were quickly
becoming friends with him, although Crusher, Riker, and Worf remained wary
and suspicious.
Geordi La Forge was quickly learning the benefits of having Q on board the
Enterprise, however. Several hours after their departure from Starbase
329, Q suddenly materialized in Engineering. La Forge looked up
curiously, as Q hadn't shown any interest in Engineering before. Q leaned
back against a wall, folded his arms, and announced, "You might be
interested to know, Mr. La Forge, that your navigational deflector is
about to go."
As La Forge hastened to check the appropriate panels, Data's voice came
over his comm badge, "Data to La Forge, we are experiencing navigational
deflector failure."
"I'm on it, Data," replied La Forge. "Damn! All three generators are
down--somebody screwed up during the repairs."
Q asked casually, "Would you like me to effect your repairs?"
"Thanks, but I'd like to find out the source of the problem. It would be
helpful if you could . . . umm . . . substitute for the deflector for a
while."
"I'm already doing so." While Q was speaking he was continuously
monitoring the Enterprise's hull, diverting any number of interstellar
particles away from the ship. He quickly grew bored watching La Forge and
his crew at work and rematerialized on the bridge. He stood for over two
hours, legs apart, arms folded, maintaining his own version of a deflector
field around the ship until the necessary repairs were performed, at one
point moving a a fairly sizable asteroid out of the Enterprise's path.
After La Forge had dressed down the members of his staff who had failed to
doublecheck and triplecheck the deflector system and had profusely
apologized to the Captain for this lapse, he headed to Ten-Forward for a
much-needed drink. Q was in his now-regular position at the bar, chatting
with Guinan and materializing drink orders out of thin air. La Forge went
up to the bar, greeted Guinan, and asked, "Q, care to join me for a
drink?"
Q smiled, turned to Guinan and remarked, "I am the soul of popularity
these days," and joined La Forge at a table.
"How did you know the deflector was going before the computer alerted us?"
asked La Forge.
"Call me over-cautious, but I'm monitoring most of the ship's systems all
the time. I could hear the generators suddenly powering down before the
computer registered it."
Geordi shook his head in amazement. "But how?"
"I'm omniscient, remember? My mind can focus on any number of things at
the same time. For instance, Picard is in his ready room, reading. Dr.
Crusher is giving Ensign Calderon a prenatal exam. Worf is checking
Alexander's homework, and Alexander is protesting vehemently. Riker and
Data are rehashing last night's poker game, and Data is commenting on the
relative probability of the same person achieving a full house and four of
a kind in subsequent hands. Counselor Troi is counseling. The computer
is running a Level 5 diagnostic of the warp propulsion system. At the
Utopia Planitia shipyards, the USS Navratilova is being commissioned. At
the colony on Alcindor, the final game of a basketball tournament is
taking place. At the moment the Quasars are leading the Comets by 14
points in the third quarter. In the Gamma quadrant, a star is about to go
supernova--if you people weren't keeping me so busy here, I'd go check it
out. Shall I continue?"
"No, that's quite sufficient," remarked Geordi in amazement. Though I
wouldn't mind the final score of the basketball game. My cousin Mark's
fiancée is one of the forwards for the Quasars."
"Can do," remarked Q.
La Forge hesitated a moment. "Q, I want to thank you for catching that
deflector failure for me. It's pretty reassuring to know you're keeping
an eye on things."
Q smiled, "Just one of the many services I'm happy to provide. By the
way, would you like to watch that game?"
"Sure!" exclaimed Geordi, and instantly on the tabletop there appeared the
image of a basketball game as if on a viewscreen. As the game progressed,
several other Ten-Forward customers wandered over to La Forge's table to
watch. Q had no interest in the game itself, but he was fascinated by the
intense interest La Forge and his shipmates took in a game which seemed
utterly pointless to him. Even Data, who had come in in search of Geordi,
was watching curiously. Q could see that a certain amount of athletic
skill was required to throw a ball from 40-50 feet away into a net that
was 12 feet high, but he still didn't see the point of either engaging in
such a frivolous activity or watching it. The Ten-Forward patrons had
different ideas however. As the fourth quarter progressed, exclamations
of "What a shot!" "Nice play!" and "This game is in the refridgerator!"
reverberated around the table.
"In the refridgerator?" asked Q.
"Old Earth expression, 20th-century," replied Data. "First attributed to
basketball broadcaster 'Chick' Hearn. It was an indication that the
outcome of a given game was beyond doubt. A refridgerator was a device to
keep food cold and prevent spoilage."
"I have to give it to humans," remarked Q, "they have a talent for
creative metaphors. And you, Data, are a font of useful information."
At this point Picard walked into Ten-Forward. He glanced at Q,
automatically assuming he was responsible for the crowd gathered around
Geordi's table. In response to Picard's glance, Q explained, "Basketball
game. The Quasars are leading the Comets by 23 points in the fourth.
Geordi's cousin's fiancée is on her way to her career high-scoring game."
"I see," said Picard, walking over to the table. He glanced briefly at
the game, commented, "Nice shot," then turned back to Q. "Q, you're an
entertainment system unto yourself."
"The possibilities are endless, Captain. Can I buy you a drink?" Picard
nodded, and a drink instantly materialized in his hand. He sat down with
Q at an adjoining table, and they chatted, while Q simultaneously
continued projecting the basketball game.
* * *
Q was proving useful in a number of ways. While the ship was en route to
Angria, Picard mentally summoned Q to his ready room, and Q, ever
obliging, appeared. "At your service, mon Capitaine."
"Hello, Q," Picard smiled. "I've just received a message from Vash.
She's being held prisoner on Elgin III, something about plundered
artifacts."
"A*gain*?"
"She's a creature of habit, apparently. I believe her life is in danger,
but I would have a hard time explaining to Starfleet why I'm committing
the resources of a starship to getting her out. It would constitute
interference in the internal affairs of another culture. I was hoping you
might not object to the role of knight in shining armor, acting as a
private citizen of course. I have to say, I have no idea how she managed
to get a message out."
"She's very resourceful," remarked Q wryly, "only not quite resourceful
enough to keep herself out of trouble. So are you mooning over her again,
Picard?"
"You know perfectly well that I am *not*. I have no interest in
rekindling a relationship, but I don't feel like I can abandon her
entirely." Q knew it was true; unfortunately for him, Picard was much
more preoccupied with his advancing and retreating relationship with
Beverly. Picard added, "How about you, my omnipotent friend? Are *you*
mooning over her?"
"No, of course not. I feel about the same as you; there's a little
nostalgia for good times, but nothing more. But I agree; I do feel
responsible for her. We'll be back in a jiffy."
Q appeared moments later in Vash's jail cell. She was pacing furiously
when Q materialized in a reclining condition on her bunk. "Well, well,
well, the eminent Vash, adding yet another career highlight to her
*distinguished* resumé. Really, Vash, the accomodations here are
dreadful. Didn't you think to tip the concierge?"
"Q! Are you responsible for my getting caught?"
"Moi? I don't understand why it is that whenever anything bad happens to
anyone in the entire galaxy, even if it's clearly their own *fault*, I'm
responsible. I may be omnipotent, but I can't be *everywhere* at once,
and frankly, you shouldn't flatter yourself that I'm interested enough in
you any more to devote the energy to get you punished. No," he said in a
bored tone, "I'm here to get you *out* of trouble, once again. You're
lucky I'm immortal; anyone else would get really tired of devoting this
much time to helping you clean up after yourself."
"If you're so uninterested in me, then why are you here?"
"Oh, I've developed a sense of responsibility, hard as it may be for *you*
to comprehend, and anyway, a mutual friend of ours asked me to help you
out--he wasn't willing to devote his starship to doing so."
"Look, Q, as far as I'm concerned, both you and Jean-Luc Picard are
ancient history. You're starting to sound as stuffy as he is. But I
wouldn't mind getting out of this place. I want my things first, though."
"Woman, you are incorrigible. I'll retrieve your personal belongings for
you, but I won't be a party to your plundering this place. Any artifacts
you stole will have to remain here."
"Fine! Have it your way! What has gotten into you, Q?"
"Can't you tell? I've reformed--I'm the soul of benevolence and charity,
spreading goodness about the galaxy. You should try it some time. I've
never understood the appeal of unfettered materialism anyway. My vices
were a little more creative. Shall we go?"
Q turned his hand palm upward, and Vash's knapsack appeared on it. He
draped it over her neck and shoulder, offered her his arm, and snapped his
fingers. Within moments they had appeared in Picard's ready room. "Where
do you want her, Captain? A little visit to the brig might do her good."
"Hello, Vash," said Picard. "Still promoting multicultural understanding,
are we?"
"What is *with* the two of you? Since when are you such buddies? Did the
prospect of ganging up on me allow you to overcome your animosity?"
"Ganging up, my dear?" queried Q. "I'm still waiting for profuse thanks
for saving your *unscrupulous* little life. Jean-Luc, I begin to grow
tired of this. Can I please send her to Earth? It's such a dreary place,
it would serve her right."
"Good idea, Q, but wait a moment. Look, Vash, Q and I do feel
responsible for you, but we cannot continue to get you out of situations
you bring upon yourself, and I cannot condone the raiding of
archaeological treasures and artifacts from the cultures which created
them. We're going to send you back to Earth, where you can try to put
your talents to a more constructive use, but if you get in trouble again,
don't come crying to us."
Vash was still fuming, but conceded, "Thank you both for arranging my
rescue. You have my infinite gratitude. I accept your offer of transport
to Earth, but I make no guarantees as to my future behavior. I promise I
won't trouble you with my problems. By the way, I can see why I'm no
longer inspiring the same regard in either of you. I can't believe I
never realized how well-suited the two of you are for each other. You
make a cute couple, boys."
"Will you get her out of here, Q?" snapped Picard.
"My pleasure, Jean-Luc." With that Q waved his arm, and sent Vash on her
merry way.
Q, of course, couldn't resist probing Picard to discover the full range of
his reaction to Vash's final remark, and he was exceedingly pleased to
note that Picard was far more embarrassed than he would have been if the
comment had not had a grain of truth. Beginning to feel a little guilty
at this violation of Picard's privacy, Q decided to revive the Captain
with a touch of male complicity. Picard was still shaking his head at
Vash's departure, and Q nodded sympathetically, saying, "Women--you can't
live with them . . . " and then to himself, "//and I wish you could learn
to live without them.//" At this, he collapsed on the sofa in a fit of
giggles.
Picard looked at him, grinned, and asked, "What am I going to do with you, Q?"
"Anything you want, mon Capitaine," declared Q, opening his arms
expansively, "anything you want."
--
Atara Stein
"It brings a sense of order and stability to my universe to know that you're still a pompous
ass . . . and a damn sexy man."--Philippa Louvois to Picard in "The Measure of a Man"
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 9 (1/2)
Date: Sun, 13 Aug 1995 21:38:03 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 285
Message-ID:
NNTP-Posting-Host: user47.lightside.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 9, Part 1
With the confrontation with the Cardassians resolved and with the
Enterprise's return to normal operations, Picard seemed more and more back
to his usual self. For all of his telepathic ability, Q, as a matter of
course, screened out what didn't appear to pertain to him directly, so he
hadn't paid any attention to the nature of the Enterprise's current
mission. He was feeling restless and confined, and it seemed prudent to
him to check in with the Continuum occasionally, if only so they would
leave him alone the rest of the time. "I'll just be gone a few days," he
informed Picard, "but if you need me, just give me a call." Picard
berated himself for the momentary pang of abandonment he felt, realizing
he had allowed himself to become much too dependent on his omnipotent
friend. It was time to go back to being a starship captain.
Having reminded himself that he was perfectly capable of commanding a
starship without Q's help, Picard sat alert but relaxed in the Captain's
chair as the Enterprise entered Angria's solar system at quarter impulse.
Suddenly, inexplicably, the Enterprise stopped dead in space. The lights
dimmed briefly, until auxiliary power came on. "Mr. Data!" exclaimed
Picard, "What is going on?"
"I do not know why, Captain, but we have lost all power to the engines and
weapons systems and sensors. We have life support and auxiliary power
only."
"Captain!" exclaimed La Forge over Picard's comm badge, "Matter/antimatter
reactions have just stopped. In fact everything down here has just
stopped. All controls are frozen as well. It's just not possible."
"Apparently it is, Mr. La Forge." Picard turned back to the ops
position. "Theorize, Mr. Data."
"There is no known reason why the entire ship should be frozen like this.
Sensors did not read any approaching ships or anything else for that
matter. For the time being, I do not have enough information to draw
upon, and without sensors we're . . . "
"Blind as a bat," muttered Picard. "Thank-you, Mr. Data."
"Captain!" declared Riker, unable to keep his thoughts to himself, "the
most likely candidate in our experience who could do this to the ship is
Q."
Picard slowly turned his head toward Riker, and fixed his first officer
with a glare of pure ice. He said slowly and deliberately in an almost
inaudible voice, a voice that was chilling in its controlled fury, "I
don't suppose you have the faintest beginnings of an idea of how furious I
am, Number One. I am beginning to wonder whether your obsessive
resentment of Q is interfering with your ability to perform your duties.
Has it ever occurred to you that there might be beings out there with
powers resembling Q's? Or do you intend to persist in blaming him for
everything, even with all indications to the contrary?"
Picard could have continued berating his first officer, since there didn't
seem to be much else to do, when a type of transporter beam began to
shimmer on the bridge. From it emerged the most stunningly beautiful
woman any of the bridge crew had ever seen. She was tall with pale blue
skin and impossibly long, flowing silver hair that glinted in the light.
Her eyes were of similar startling silver color, and she wore a jet black
uniform that highlighted even more the colors of her skin and hair. All
the men on the bridge were temporarily transfixed, but Picard recovered
himself the quickest, noting in the meanwhile that Deanna Troi was
alternately darting furious looks at Worf and Riker.
"I am Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Do
you think you might do us the honor of introducing yourself and explaining
why you have disabled my ship?"
The stranger looked Picard up and down, smiling to herself. "You're a
very good-looking man, Captain Picard. Too bad we had to meet under such
awkward circumstances."
"I don't believe we *have* met," remarked Picard pointedly.
"Introductions will have to wait. I'm in a hurry." At this point, Worf
started to move toward the woman, but with a glance she froze him in his
tracks.
Picard demanded, "What have you done to him?"
The intruder replied, "He's not harmed, Captain. Just immobilized." She
then gestured toward the viewscreen which immediately revealed the
interior of a very small vessel, about the size of a shuttlecraft.
Another woman was aboard, with the same pale blue skin, but hair of a
darker, although still shimmering, hue. She was also stunningly
attractive, but not as dazzling as her counterpart on the bridge of the
Enterprise. The woman on the bridge coolly appraised the crew, then
gestured to Picard, Riker, Troi, Data, and Worf in turn. As she gestured
to each individual, they were instantly transported off the Enterprise and
reappeared on the small ship, hands and feet bound. The woman headed for
the turbolift, eventually appropriating La Forge and Crusher in the same
manner. Having deprived the Enterprise of what she deemed to be her most
essential personnel, she too returned to her own vessel, leaving the
Enterprise suspended helplessly in space. Picard had time to notice that
there was another small ship hovering near the Enterprise, before an
irresistable wave of unconsciousness swept over him and his crew.
When they awoke, they were no longer in the small ship, but in a small,
windowless chamber. They remained bound with a type of cord that
tightened with every attempt to free oneself. "//Neatly done//," thought
Picard to himself, "//but why?//" As he noticed his crew waking up, he
demanded drily, "Can anyone tell me why our sensors did not pick up those
ships out there *before* they disabled the Enterprise?"
"I can only speculate that they have a type of shielding that conceals
them from our sensors," replied Data. "My best guess is that we are
currently on the planet Gondal, the planet we were closest to when we were
intercepted, which according to all reports was uninhabited. Clearly the
inhabitants have developed a technology that renders them impervious to
traditional sensors."
"And transporters as well, no doubt," remarked La Forge. "They haven't
bothered to remove our communicators, so they're obviously not worried
about the Enterprise being able to make any kind of contact with us."
"These restraints are very effective," remarked Data. "I would not
recommend any attempts to break loose of them. I believe that as they
tighten they have the capacity to cut off human circulation." Worf
growled and glared, utterly furious at his helpless condition.
"Well, they've certainly thought of everything," noted Crusher. "The
Enterprise is frozen and has been emptied of her most essential crew."
"And do you persist in believing this is the work of Q, Number One?" asked
Picard acidly.
Riker stared straight ahead of him and muttered, "I wouldn't put anything
past him, Sir, with all due respect."
Picard was about to lash out a reply, when a disembodied voice remarked,
"No you wouldn't, would you, Riker?" In a flash Q appeared in the room.
"Well, my friends, you've certainly gotten yourselves in a fix, and one
that won't be all that easy to get you out of. I leave you alone for a
couple of days, and look what happens." He turned to Picard, "Why didn't
you tell me you were headed toward Angria? You have no idea what you've
just gotten yourself into."
"You didn't ask. It seems, in retrospect, I was mistaken, but I didn't
see the need to fill you in on what appeared to be a routine mission. But
it's not as though I concealed it either. What happened to all your
vaunted mind-reading ability?"
"It's selective," replied Q casually.
"This conversation is fascinating, Q, but it's not being conducted under
the most auspicious of circumstances. Since you're here, do you think you
might do something about that?"
"Well, Captain, it's not as easy as it looks. I'm going to have to
proceed with caution. I suppose it won't hurt to get rid of those
restraints however." Within a moment, all of the captured crew members,
with the exception of Data, were rubbing their wrists and ankles.
"How do we know that you aren't in cahoots with these people?" demanded Riker.
Q was composing a withering reply but at that moment, the silver-haired
woman strode into the room. She stopped short when she saw the entity.
"You!" she exclaimed.
"Moi," he replied nonchalantly. Q walked over to the woman, leaned over
and spoke directly in her ear, "It's so nice to see you again,
sweetheart. What has it been, a hundred years or so? You're still as
breathtaking as ever."
"Thank-you. You're not so bad yourself, but you've got yourself some
competition over there," she said nodding toward Picard.
"You haven't changed a bit, sweetheart. However you won't find him as
easy as your other conquests." Q remained immediately next to the woman,
and began twirling a lock of her hair idly around his finger.
She tensed slightly but continued to project a studied confidence.
"You're including yourself in that number, of course."
"Of course. For a while at least, I was a willing victim."
Picard snapped suddenly, "This reunion is very touching, Q, but could
someone do me the courtesy of explaining what the hell is going on?"
"Captain," said Q, "Allow me to present Augusta of Gondal, a former, shall
we say, acquaintance of mine with formidable abilities. Augusta, I
presume you know the names of everyone here." She nodded, while Q
continued absently playing with her hair. "I see you've achieved space
travel since I saw you last. That must be putting your goals well within
reach."
"Yes it is, except for the intervention of outsiders, which we do *not* need."
"I can think of a time when you welcomed outside intervention, my dear."
"Yes, you would have been a useful ally, but you abandoned me and my
cause. It's not as though you were innocent of interfering with other
species before."
"True enough, but as I explained to you at the time, Augusta, I was not
willing to be used to further anyone *else*'s political agenda. I didn't
mind being objectified . . ."
"Something you were also guilty of," interjected Augusta.
"I admit it. Mutual objectification seemed as good a basis for a
relationship as anything else. I did not, however, consent to being used
as a tool to further your ends. And you seem to be doing quite well
without me." Picard and his crew, meanwhile, seemed hypnotized. They
watched and listened to the two powerful beings before them, but none of
them was capable of moving or uttering a word. Picard realized that Q was
deliberately trying to keep them out of commission, but he had to keep his
thoughts to himself.
Augusta switched into telepathic communication, quickly gesturing toward
Picard, "//You seem to have a rather proprietary attitude toward him.//"
"//Yes, and I'll thank you to keep your hands off.//"
"//I believe he's entitled to make up his own mind about such matters.
Does he know you're so, shall we say, attached to him?//"
"//No he doesn't, and he's not going to find out from you,
*understand*?//" At this Q tightened his grip on Augusta's hair.
She took in her breath sharply, but smiled ingratiatingly. "//Don't
worry. I'm not suicidal enough to make an enemy of you . . . yet//," the
last word being spoken only to herself in an inner recess of her mind to
which Q had no access.
"//I'm glad we understand that.//" Q then spoke aloud, "Sweetheart, we
have to talk. I'm not going to let you harm these people."
"I'm not interested in harming them, unless it becomes necessary. But I
warn you not to thwart me. I can have their ship destroyed in an
instant."
"And I can destroy you and your entire installation here in an instant.
Anyway, destroying their ship will not serve your purpose. If anything,
it would make the Federation more likely to become actively involved in
your affairs."
"Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps when the Federation sees our destructive
potential, they'll simply draw a quarantine around this entire solar
system. I have no quarrel with the Federation. I simply want them out."
"So you can wipe out the Angrian government unmolested," remarked Q.
"That's our right after what they did to us! We have no intention of
remaining on this rock any longer than we have to. I've never seen the
planet of my parents' origin. It is time for our return, and nothing is
going to stop us."
Q put his arm around Augusta's waist and firmly propelled her a few steps
away. He murmured, "You know, when you get fired up about your cause like
this, it makes you even more desirable." With one hand around Augusta's
waist, Q reached up with the other, combing back her silver hair with his
fingers. Then he leaned in and kissed her deliberately and lingeringly on
the lips, noting with satisfaction that she still responded to him.
Suddenly, his hand flashed, and the crew vanished, materializing safely on
the bridge of the Enterprise. Before they had time to realize what had
happened, the Enterprise was ricocheting across space, coming to a stop
well outside of Angria's solar system.
* * *
--
Atara Stein
"It brings a sense of order and stability to my universe to know that you're still a pompous
ass . . . and a damn sexy man."--Philippa Louvois to Picard in "The Measure of a Man"
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 9 (2/2)
Date: Sun, 13 Aug 1995 21:43:49 -0800
Message-ID:
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 9, Part 2
Back on Gondal, Augusta gasped with fury, "You . . . *asshole*!"
"Well, sweetheart," replied Q casually, "I always try to live up to
expectations." He then turned serious. "Those people are under my
pledged protection. Nothing happens to them or their ship, understand? I
will be glad to try to talk them into hearing your case, *under controlled
conditions*, but you haven't exactly made the greatest first impression.
You can believe me that Picard will not take kindly to coercion or
threats. In fact, you've probably made it more likely that he'll take the
Angrian government's side."
"In the long run, I don't care. You don't realize how powerful we've
become. You can't protect every ship they send out here. I am perfectly
capable of making this region of space so unwelcome to Federation vessels,
that they'll be glad to let us work out our internal affairs ourselves."
Q considered briefly and realized that she might well be right.
"Augusta," he said in a gentler tone than he had used with her
previously. "Don't you see what this cause of yours has done to you?
Even if you are in the right, look at you. You're willing to sacrifice
hundreds, even thousands of lives."
"Since when has humanoid life meant that much to you?"
Q smiled, "I've been taking lessons from a remarkable teacher."
"Well I haven't!" snapped Augusta. "I have no desire to kill anyone, but
I will do whatever is necessary. Angria is my home, and I intend to claim
it."
"Look," said Q softly, "I'll see what I can do. But just remember, I can
make your life and your cause extremely difficult. And *I* will do
whatever is necessary to protect those people." He paused, then added, "I
realize I was being unscrupulous, but I really did want to kiss you."
"I know," she smiled, "I wanted it too, but don't expect me to let you
turn my head again. I'm a fast learner."
Q bowed, kissed her hand with a grand gesture, then returned himself to
the Enterprise.
* * *
As soon as the Enterprise had stopped its headlong dash through space,
Picard heard a voice inside his head insisting, "//Do me a favor,
Jean-Luc, and just stay where you are until I can get back and explain
what's going on. You're in deep now.//"
"Status?" demanded Picard.
"No injuries, all systems back on line," replied Worf, who had quickly
resumed his customary position.
"Now what, Captain?" asked Riker.
"Now we wait. It seems that we're in a situation where we could benefit
from Q's knowledge and experience, and I have no intention of rushing back
in there until I know what's going on." Picard stopped talking and
gestured with his head toward his ready room. "Number One, I wish to see
you privately. Mr. Data, you have the bridge."
As the doors to the Captain's ready room slid shut, Picard turned and
gazed witheringly at his first officer. After a long pause, he queried,
"Number One, do you have anything you wish to say to me?"
Riker sighed. "I'm truly sorry, Captain. I see now that Q is apparently
on our side, but it bothers me that I don't understand why. He humiliated
me, and I'm having a hard time getting over that."
Picard said in a steely voice, "You humiliated yourself, Number One, just
as I have time and time again. I don't know why it is that whenever Q
offers a choice or presents us with a decision to make, we invariably make
the wrong one, but it's time you comprehended that he has no intention of
harming us. I don't believe he ever did. I will grant you that he seems
to enjoy mocking and toying with us, but he is operating for our benefit.
He's humiliated me a good deal more than he did you, and I've managed to
get over it. It's time you did because you're letting your resentment of
him cloud your thinking when we need you be clear-headed. Understood?"
"Yes, sir. I will work on it. It's just that whenever he appears, I can
literally feel my blood pressure going up."
Picard laughed. "Well, I don't blame you for that." Then his voice
turned serious, "But I do not want to hear another word spoken against him
on the bridge or in conference or anywhere else. If you have evidence
that Q is doing something that could interfere with the running and safety
of this ship, then I would appreciate you voicing it to me in private.
Otherwise, if you haven't anything nice to say, *keep a lid on it*!"
"Yes, sir."
Picard nodded, and he and Riker returned to the bridge. A few minutes
later, Q reappeared. He stood on the bridge, opened his arms wide, and
exhaled. "Home sweet home! So, Captain, would you like a briefing on the
situation in Angria and Gondal?"
"That would appear to be advisable." Picard turned to Riker, "Conference,
five minutes." Picard then inclined his head in the direction of his
ready room. Q raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Picard nodded. They
disappeared off the bridge in a flash.
"So, Q," remarked Picard once they were in private, "you seem to have
friends scattered all over the galaxy. I had no idea you were so
popular."
"It's my irresistable charm, Captain. But be advised, she has her eye on
you. I'd watch your back . . . and your front for that matter," grinned
Q, glancing briefly downward from Picard's face. "She's a powerful
telepath, and if she sees fit to make a serious attempt at seducing you,
you'll be hard pressed to resist. In fact, I don't know of anyone who
has. And don't tell me you're not flattered by her interest in you,
Jean-Luc. The chorus of masculine desire I was hearing down there was
awe-inspiring, and your voice wasn't the least of it."
"I will admit for the sake of argument, that she is the most stunning
woman I have ever seen. But that doesn't mean I am going to act on a
glandular impulse."
Q shrugged. "I don't even have glands, and *I* did, but I forgot that the
great Jean-Luc Picard *never* gives in to his baser desires. He *always*
defers to his own superior judgment, no matter how tempting an offer."
Picard turned pale, and he looked away from Q. When he turned back, his
voice had chilled by several degrees, "Well, it's a good thing I have you
around to remind me of my shortcomings, isn't it? I never have to worry
about thinking too highly of myself with *you* here."
Q smiled derisively and bowed, "Just a little service I provide, mon
Capitaine. It's a dirty job, but *somebody*'s got to do it."
Picard turned and headed out of his ready room with a heavy sigh, followed
by Q. The rest of the senior staff were assembling in the observation
lounge when they walked in. "So, Q," asked Picard, "what can you tell
us? And what's your part in in all this?" His voice was brisk and
businesslike, and Troi noticed that the usual harmony between Q and the
Captain had frosted over. This didn't entirely surprise her, however.
She imagined Q was not the easiest being to get along with on a regular
basis.
"My part in all this, Captain, is negligible. A little over a century
ago, I encountered Gondal while I was exploring that part of the galaxy
and was surprised to discover a colony of people living underground. When
I met Augusta, I was more than a little impressed. She's rather
dazzling."
"We noticed," remarked Riker drily.
"Well, on top of that, she has a rather forceful personality. She's very
motivated, and I found that attractive . . . for a while. As you may have
surmised from my conversation with her, she wanted me to ally myself with
her cause, and I refused. I felt like I was being used, and it didn't
agree with me."
"You, of course, prefer to be on the other end," commented Picard.
"Have it your way, Captain. As to her cause, which is why we're all
gathered here now. Many hundreds of years ago, on Angria, the sovereign
died rather suddenly, leaving his son and daughter in a dispute over
leadership. The son was rather autocratic and had the aristocracy on his
side, while the daughter had many followers among the disenfranchised
classes. She and her followers had been practicing an ancient art long
since forgotten on Angria--I believe they excavated some ancient
texts--and they were beginning to develop the rudiments of telepathy and
telekinetic powers, but on a very limited scale. The son did have the
armed forces on his side, and, concerned about the potential of his
sister's new powers, he had her and her followers captured and basically
dumped on Gondal with only minimal provisions.
Augusta is the daughter of that sister. The unwilling colonists managed
to eke out a living on Gondal. They, miraculously enough, got enough to
grow on that barren rock to live on, and they continued to hone and
enhance their telepathic and telekinetic powers. Over time, they were
able to develop very sophisticated technology, and they have achieved
their final goal, spaceflight. At the same time they've become almost as
powerful as the Q, but with a major difference. Their telekinetic
abilities are limited to what they can see with their own eyes. The
reason they've never stopped a starship in its tracks before is that they
didn't have enough technology to get into space themselves. But anything
they can see directly, if only through the viewports of those tiny ships
of theirs, they can immobilize . . . or destroy. They can't shapeshift,
they can't teleport themselves over long distances, and they can't create
out of nothing the way I can, but they can do just about whatever they
like to anything or anyone they can see. In a confined space, and
assuming there was a reason I didn't just want to escape, Augusta could
offer me a serious challenge, and she's a very determined individual.
Captain, if you do decide to talk to her, I wouldn't do it on this ship."
"Noted. I take it, then, that she and her followers intend to use their
newfound technology and their powers to return to Angria and claim what
they see is their place."
"*Very* good, Captain. And the reason the Angrians have come out of their
long isolation and made overtures to the Federation is that they want the
benefit of the most advanced technology they can get. If they can wipe
out Augusta's ships and other technology, Augusta can't get to Angria, and
her powers don't do her any good. I don't suppose the Angrians told you
about this particular motivation of theirs."
"No, they haven't. And that alone would make me inclined seriously to
reconsider their petition for admission. But I do not wish to capitulate
to terrorists either. The Angrians are guilty of being dishonest with us,
but I don't think we should just leave them vulnerable to being
slaughtered. Q, do you think there's any way your friend Augusta would be
amenable to Federation mediation of her people's dispute with Angria?"
"Knowing Augusta, it seems unlikely, unless there was some way to force
her into realizing that her interests would be better served by talking
rather than violence. How you're going to do that, Captain, I don't
know. And it's not just her. Her followers are quite determined, and
they're very set on returning to Angria *and* gaining power there. I
can't say I blame them. The current government consists of a group of
self-interested cowards, who, to use a singularly appropriate old Earth
expression, want to bomb Augusta and her people back to the Stone Age."
"Dealing with these political disputes would be a whole lot easier if
there were a clear sense of who's right and who's wrong," remarked La
Forge. "If it were up to me personally, I wouldn't want to help either of
these people. I'm glad I went into engineering instead of diplomacy."
"Yes, your problems down in Engineering seem appealingly clear-cut at the
moment," sighed Picard. "I need to talk to the Sovereign of Angria and
let him know I've received more information than he's been giving us. But
in the meanwhile, we're hampered by the fact that if we return to Angria's
solar system, Q's friend Augusta can apparently do whatever she wants to
the Enterprise or any other ship."
"Of course, I can counter whatever she does, but not much else productive
would get done in the meanwhile," offered Q. "Ultimately my real
advantage over her is that I can get you out of there in a hurry. As long
as we're within her visual range, I'm afraid I'm pretty close to meeting
my match, much as I hate to admit it." Q then spoke mentally to Picard,
"//If you persist in calling her my 'friend' in that manner, I'm going to
deposit you naked in her bedroom and let her have her way with you, so
watch it Picard! Just because I was involved with her a century ago
doesn't make me responsible for her current behavior. I'm on *your* damn
side here.//"
"//I'm sorry, Q, you're right. Sometimes you bring out the worst in me.//"
"//It's a talent I have, apparently.//"
At that moment, while Q was distracted by his mental conversation with
Picard, a transporter beam shimmered into existence around him, and Q
disappeared. Within seconds the Enterprise was rocked violently by a
weapons discharge. Picard was the first back on the bridge, yelling,
"Shields up! Red alert!" then "What the hell is doing that?"
"I believe it is that ship," remarked Data, gesturing to the viewscreen.
Before them hung a small vessel, about the size of a Daedalus class
starship, bristling with armaments.
"Should we return fire, sir?" asked Riker.
"No, Number One. They hit us with minimal firepower, aware that our
shields were down. I believe it was merely a warning shot. And I would
just as soon not give them an excuse to disable our weapons systems for
the moment."
--
Atara Stein
"It brings a sense of order and stability to my universe to know that you're sti
ll a pompous ass . . . and a damn sexy man."--Philippa Louvois to Picard in "The
Measure of a Man"
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 10 (1/1)
Date: Mon, 14 Aug 1995 17:17:03 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 10
Unspeakably furious at being caught off-guard, Q materialized in a small
cabin on Augusta's ship. As soon as the transporter beam ceased to
shimmer, he found himself bound and paralyzed, as Augusta and two of her
most powerful lieutenants focused their mental energies on restraining
him. "You kidnapped *me*?!" gasped Q incredulously.
"I've been reading up on your encounters with the Enterprise over the past
several years. It seemed like a tactic you'd be familiar with," noted
Augusta with a deliberate nonchalance.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Woman?"
"Achieving a more balanced equation by removing *you* as a factor,
sweetheart. It's too bad we have to keep you restrained. You'd be very
impressed with my ship here. Surprised?"
"How did you conceal this from me?"
"Well, I've learned to protect parts of my mind from being probed, even by
you. The fact that you were so awestruck by my charms back on Gondal
helped of course. The existence of this vessel was a piece of information
I thought best to keep to myself."
"You're going to regret this, Augusta. You caught me off-guard, and
you've won this battle--and I have to give credit where credit is due, I'm
impressed as hell--but no more kid gloves with you, sweetheart, you can
depend on it."
"Well, at the moment, you can't move your hands, so it's rather a moot
point, isn't it?" Augusta summoned another guard, a young man with the
same pale blue skin and a mane of long black hair. She turned to Q,
laughing at his all-too-obvious reaction, "A feast for the eyes, isn't
he? You're far too susceptible to your aesthetic sensibilities,
sweetheart. Anyway, he's my baby brother, so behave yourself."
"That's Alex? My, how you've grown, young man."
Alex sighed, "Look, I didn't like you when you were here before, and I
don't like you now, and I especially don't like being appraised like a
piece of meat. My orders are to keep you restrained, and you can be sure
I'll do just that."
"Yes," said Augusta, "be sure all three of you do just that. He's very
resourceful." She turned and left the room. Q mentally probed his three
guards, concluding that he at least had a chance of overpowering them, but
for the time being, he decided to play along and try to figure out just
what it was that Augusta was up to.
* * *
"We are being hailed by the enemy vessel," announced Worf.
"On screen," said Picard.
"Hello, Captain, we meet again."
"Under increasingly inauspicious circumstances. What have you done with Q?"
"Oh he's all right. He's under guard, and he's not too happy about it. I
wanted to give you a small sample of our abilities. Aside from the fact
that I can paralyze your ship with my telekinetic powers, this baby is
just riddled with firepower. We've acquitted ourselves very well
technologically, considering we were dumped on a barren rock with only our
ingenuity to rely on."
At this moment, Picard heard a familiar voice in his head: "//Well, I'm
certainly embarrassed. I told you she was formidable. Play along with
her for the time being. I think I can get us out of this, but find out as
much as you can in the meanwhile.//"
Picard glanced back at the screen. "What is it you want from us?"
"I want you to stay the hell out of our solar system. The dispute between
the Angrian government and my people is an internal affair, and Federation
intervention is not necessary or wanted."
"The Angrian government has petitioned for admission into the Federation.
I cannot simply ignore their request at the coercion of terrorists."
"Now, Captain, that's not a very nice word."
"But an accurate one. . ."
At this point, Augusta interrupted, "I believe this conversation could be
conducted so much more amicably in person, don't you?" Without waiting
for an answer, she activated her ship's transporter beam, and whisked
Picard off the Enterprise and into a small lounge-like room on her ship.
"Can I offer you a drink, Captain?" asked Augusta as she entered the room.
"No, thank-you. I would prefer to return to my ship," replied Picard icily.
"Well, that may be a problem. You see, my only interest here is
convincing your Federation to keep out of our solar system. As I see it,
the best way to do that is to convince Starfleet that protecting the
Angrian government is simply not worth the loss of life and the
destruction of your fleet I can cause. I suppose you could call those
terrorist tactics, but I have just as legitimate a claim to govern Angria
as my cousin, the current Sovereign, does."
"And it is precisely that type of dispute the Federation has experience
mediating. It seems to me that both sides in this dispute have valid
claims, and both sides are far too willing to gain their objectives
through violence. You want to rush in, wipe out the current government of
Angria, destroying many innocent lives in the process, without even
attempting to talk and negotiate. I don't understand that at all. I
would urge you to consider Federation mediation."
"My so-called uncle didn't avail himself of any mediation when he dumped
my mother and her followers on Gondal," snapped Augusta. "And the current
government did not inform you of their real reason for seeking Federation
involvement. These are not people who are going to listen to mediation.
The first opportunity they have to get adequate technology, they will
destroy what we have built over centuries. . ."
"Just as you intend to destroy them," interjected Picard.
"I can be very selective in my offensive capabilities. I am simply going
to eliminate the people who are obstacles in my path, and I am going to
govern Angria in a just fashion, unlike my cousin."
"You cannot found a just government on murder and terrorism!" exclaimed Picard.
"Look, I'm tired of this conversation. You're my hostage, Captain, and
you're going to convince the Federation to deny Angria's petition and to
stay out of our solar system altogether. If you cannot get them to agree
to that, then I'm going to destroy your ship as an example of what I can
do."
"The Federation will not cave in to your demands any more than I would.
But they will do whatever is possible to work out an equitable resolution
to your dispute . . ."
"No! There's no such thing. I am going to contact the Federation Council
now, and you will deliver my ultimatum, Captain, or lose your ship."
"It won't work," said Picard quietly. "The Federation will never
capitulate to terrorist demands, lest it encourage more terrorist activity
in the process. There must be another way."
"You are a very stubborn and foolish man, but perhaps I can instill a
little more flexibility in your character, Captain." Augusta strode over
to a covered viewport, pressed a button, so that the cover slid open,
revealing a view of the Enterprise. Her hand flashed through the air in a
slashing motion, and to Picard's horror and disbelief, one of the warp
nacelles simply sheared off the ship and drifted away into space.
* * *
Q, during this dialog between Picard and Augusta, was rapidly concluding
he had heard enough. He returned his attention to his own situation,
assessing the mental energy of his three guards who were entirely focused
on keeping him restrained. He noticed that their energy was mostly
concentrated on the restraints around his wrists and ankles; the
restraints were strengthened by the telekinetic powers of the guards,
which were impressive to say the least. But he was a Q, damn it! He
allowed all the fury that had been building up at his kidnapping to wash
over him. With an explosion of mental energy, he burst his restraints.
The guards tried to reassert control over him, but Q had achieved the
optimum level of determination. His arm whipped through the air, and he
rapidly enveloped each guard within a small version of his trademark
grid-like forcefield, then teleported himself onto the outside of
Augusta's ship. Moments after the warp nacelle sheared off the
Enterprise, Q replaced it.
* * *
"What the hell is that?" exclaimed Riker as the red alert siren began to
peal and an object drifted by on the viewscreen.
"It is the starboard warp nacelle," remarked Data calmly.
"WHAT?!"
"Someone on the other ship seems to have used telekinetic abilities to
shear off the warp nacelle. As warp engines are already down, there is no
immediate danger."
"Commander, look!" exclaimed Worf.
As if in reverse motion, the warp nacelle returned the way it came,
apparently reattaching itself to its support pylon. Moments later, with
their characteristic thrum, the engines started up, with all power
restored to the ship. "Shields up now!" declared Riker.
* * *
Augusta did not handle frustration well, and the sight of the warp nacelle
reattaching itself enraged her even further. "All right, Captain, I've
had enough. You may think having Q on your side assures the safety of
your ship, but I can give him and you a run for your money." Augusta
fixed on the Enterprise with an intense stare. Then she spoke into her
communicator, "Elinor! Fire missiles now!"
* * *
"Shields are down!" exclaimed Worf.
"Geordi, we need those shields!" barked Riker.
"I'm sorry, Commander," replied La Forge's voice over Riker's comm badge,
"controls are completely frozen the way they were bef . . ."
La Forge was cut off, by Worf's exclamation, "Incoming fire sir!"
In horror all watched the viewscreen, as a spread of missiles headed
toward the ship. Then, suddenly and inexplicably, the entire spread of
missiles veered off in a completely different direction.
When enough air had flowed back into his lungs to allow him to speak,
Riker gasped, "Increase magnification, Mr. Data."
As the bridge crew watched, the missiles exploded harmlessly a
considerable distance from the ship. Riker collapsed back into the
Captain's chair, just in time to feel the Enterprise lurch into motion and
start careening dizzily through space, a motion he and the others had come
to recognize as the work of Q.
* * *
After diverting the attack on the Enterprise and sending it safely out of
the range of Augusta's ship, Q materialized in the room where Augusta and
Picard were, in shared amazement, watching recent events. As soon as he
appeared, Augusta fixed Q with a glance, trying to immobilize him.
"Two can play at this game, my dear," said Q casually, "and I'm still
better at it than you." He snapped his fingers, and Augusta stood,
frozen, her arms apparently pinned at her sides, her feet unable to move.
Q kept one hand pointed toward Augusta, but closed his eyes. Picard could
hear the ship's engines whine to a halt. Q remained with his eyes
closed. When he opened them, he announced, "I'm afraid your engines are
off-line--in fact, they seem to have dematerialized altogether--and your
weapons systems are thoroughly disabled. It's one of the perils of space
flight. Otherwise reliable technology just goes," he paused, "*kaput* now
and then. Isn't that right, Captain?" he asked, turning to Picard.
"Indeed," said Picard grinning, "in my experience ships' systems sometimes
just shut down inexplicably. Damned annoying when it happens."
"Captain," responded Augusta grimly, "I wouldn't invest too much trust in
him. He might betray you too, some day."
"I'll have to take my chances," snapped Picard.
"Now," said Q, "are you willing to consider the possibility of Federation
mediation? I can completely cripple you technologically, and I'll do it
if I have to. You may be able to repair anything on this ship with your
powers, but I know you can't create the parts you need out of thin air. I
told you these people were not going to be hurt, and I meant it." Q
released Augusta, confident she would not pose a further threat.
Picard frowned. "I'm not sure if my offer of mediation still stands. She
tried to destroy my ship."
Inside his head, Picard heard Q. "//Actually, I suspect that was
partially a bluff. She knew I had replaced the nacelle and had the
capacity to protect the ship from a missile attack. If she was really
serious about destroying your ship, she would have used her powers.
Jean-Luc, it may be that she doesn't deserve another chance, but people do
desperate and reckless things in the pursuit of otherwise just causes.
Need I remind you again that you almost obliterated an entire Cardassian
fleet? You were insane at the time, but what Augusta and her people have
suffered would be enough to drive anyone insane, particularly once they
acquired the power to get back at their oppressors. And you're the one
who cares about the value of individual lives. A whole lot are going to
be lost if you simply leave these people to their own devices.//"
"//Quite right, Q. I never expected you to be the voice of reason and
moderation.//"
"//Sometimes I surprise myself//," replied Q.
Picard turned to Augusta. "I'm willing to offer you Federation mediation
of your dispute with the government of Angria. There has to be a
satisfactory solution that will allow your people to return. In return,
however, I demand a pledge that you will not interfere with Federation
vessels. You have tremendous powers, but you must learn to use them
wisely, or you may find yourself committing actions that you will come to
regret."
Augusta considered briefly, then replied, "Captain, I apologize for my
recklessness and callousness. We've been waiting so long, that when the
opportunity came for action, I let my impulses override all other
considerations. You may not believe this, but I am a just and equitable
leader of my people, and I am acting in their interest. Your mediators
will be hard pressed, however, to convince my cousin's government to share
power with us. They have always acted on self-interest alone, with very
little concern for the welfare of their people. They have utterly
controlled what information is released about conditions on Angria, but
there is unnecessary hunger and homelessness, while the Sovereign and his
Council and their families live in luxury. If your mediators can convince
them to sacrifice their own power, comfort, and prestige to share power
with us and to improve living conditions for all the inhabitants of
Angria, then they will be miracle-workers indeed."
Picard nodded. He could communicate more with a simple nod than any other
human being Q had observed. He could tell that Augusta was reading the
understanding, thoughtfulness, and sympathy Picard was projecting. Picard
then spoke, "Well, we'll try our best."
"You have my word, Captain, that we will not interfere with any vessels
that come into our space unless they pose us a direct threat."
"Very well," said Picard. "I will arrange for a team of Federation
mediators to arrive as soon as possible, and I will communicate to the
government of Angria that due to the false information they have provided
us, their petition for admission will be put on hold."
Q asked, "Would you like me to restore your ship to working order, sweetheart?"
Augusta nodded. Within moments, the engines had been replaced and powered
up, and all systems were restored. She looked at Q, then spoke in a low
tone, "Come here." Surprised, the entity complied. Augusta continued,
"You are absolutely the most aggravating individual I have ever
encountered and probably ever will encounter, but you do have a few good
qualities." She reached over, grasping a handful of Q's hair and pulling
his head toward hers for a long kiss. "Don't take it personally," she
then murmured, "but I really hope I don't see you back here for a good
long time. You're cute, but you're a royal pain in the ass."
Q smiled graciously and bowed, saying modestly, "I try to make the most of
my endowments. Good-bye, Augusta."
She then turned to Picard, who was trying to figure out the peculiar
sensation that had wrenched him when Augusta kissed Q. It hadn't occurred
to him that it could be jealousy, but he was soon too distracted. Augusta
went up to him, tracing one finger along the side of his face. She said,
"You, Captain, on the other hand, are welcome any time. I'll try to
provide you with better hospitality."
Picard merely nodded, then said, "Getting acquainted with you has
certainly been an experience, Augusta of Gondal, but it's not an
experience I'm in any hurry to repeat. I wish you a satisfactory and
successful resolution and a speedy return to your home." With that Q
snapped his fingers, returning himself and Picard to the Enterprise.
As they materialized in Picard's ready room, Q was already convulsed in
laughter. "Red alert, mon Capitaine. She almost had you there. It's a
good thing your Dr. C. wasn't there to witness your physiological
reactions." Q clucked reproachfully, shaking his head. "You're an
animal, Picard."
Picard turned around, gazing steadily at his companion. "Speaking of red
alerts, my *omnipotent* friend, what happened to you? And you call
yourself all-powerful?"
"I'm utterly embarrassed," admitted Q, spreading open his hands in an
apologetic gesture.
"So you should be. You're not much good to us as a protector if you're
going to let yourself be kidnapped by various and sundry ex-girlfriends
around the galaxy."
"Touché," replied Q, clutching his chest as if he had just received a
thrust to the heart. "My ego has taken a severe blow. I'm just going to
have to make overwhelming displays of my power until I feel my old self
again. Are you sure you don't want me to deposit you naked in Augusta's
bedroom?"
"Quite sure. Now about these displays of your powers . . . "
"They won't be disruptive, Captain, I assure you," said Q in a
mock-serious voice, "but keep your eyes open. I love the element of
surprise."
"Well, you'll have to surprise me later. I have some work to do."
"Carry on." Q vanished only to reapppear in Ten-Forward. He wanted to
drown his embarrassment in a drink, perhaps lament to Guinan about the
foibles of ex-girlfriends and bald starship Captains. The lamenting was
not to be. Almost as soon as Q sat down, Riker came into Ten-Forward in
search of him.
"Well, well, well, my mortal enemy, the redoubtable Commander Riker. What
brings you here?"
"May I?" asked Riker, trying to ignore his rising blood pressure.
Q gestured grandly to a seat. "What can I do for you, Commander?"
Riker cleared his throat, rubbed his beard, took a breath, then said,
"I've come to apologize. You saved our lives. I don't know why I haven't
been able to bring myself to trust you, but it's finally sunk in that
you're on our side. I don't know why . . ."
"Nor do you want to, but my ulterior motives are quite harmless. Pray
continue."
"Well, Q, I'm sorry. And apologizing is not one of my favorite activities."
"Then we have something in common, Commander. Listen, I've been as guilty
of giving you a hard time as you have of mistrusting me against all
evidence to the contrary. When you wouldn't join the Continuum--and it
was good decision on your part; it's a stultifyingly dull place--I was
embarrassed before my superiors just as you were embarrassed in front of
Picard and the crew. It's understandable that you and I would not be too
fond of each other."
Riker nodded. "I don't expect I'm ever going to lead your cheering
section, Q, but I'm willing to put all that behind us and try to get to
know you better. Just to learn a fraction of what makes you tick should
prove very interesting."
"It's a deal." Q reached out his hand to shake Riker's. When Riker
winced from Q's grip, the entity remarked, "Didn't want you to think I was
getting soft."
"No need to worry about that. Although your ex-girlfriend took you for a
bit of ride, didn't she?"
"Yes, and I came in here to forget about that. I may be omnipotent, but
I'm not perfect."
"That's for sure," came a voice from behind him. Guinan had glided up,
bringing drinks. She turned to Riker, "Did you know he once blew up an
entire solar system by accident? Fortunately it was uninhabited. I
believe he was experimenting with thermonuclear reactions in the sun's
core. It was an impressive explosion."
"Oops!" laughed Riker.
"Yes, very funny," muttered Q. "You know what the problem with your
people is, Guinan? You live too long and remember too much. And you
personally always seem to be around when I screw up--why is that?"
"Somebody's got to keep an eye on you." Guinan smiled and returned to the
bar, leaving Q and Riker to their drinks.
* * *
Soon thereafter, Picard had another diplomatic triumph to his credit.
Both sides in the Angrian dispute agreed to Federation mediation, which
the Sovereign realized was preferable to having Augusta and her followers
take over the government by force. Governing was getting tiresome to him
anyway--all those annoying protestors always demanding one thing or
another. If his damned witch of a cousin thought she could do a better
job, then he was happy to let her try. He negotiatied a safe and
comfortable retirement for himself and his ministers on Risa. Augusta's
arrival was greeted with acclaim by the majority of the population, who
had little fondness for the outgoing government. Augusta set to work
immediately at rectifying the economic inequities on Angria, insisting
that eliminating hunger and homelessness had to be her government's first
priority. Pleased with the fairness of the Federation mediators, Augusta
resubmitted her planet's application for admission, which was soon
accepted.
--
Atara Stein
"It brings a sense of order and stability to my universe to know that you're still a pompous
ass . . . and a damn sexy man."--Philippa Louvois to Picard in "The Measure of a Man"
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 11 (1/2)
Date: Sat, 19 Aug 1995 17:11:26 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
A note on Chapter 11: This was written some time last Fall, so when I
heard that Patrick Stewart was going to play Prospero in the "The
Tempest," I was pretty impressed with the coincidence. As one might
expect, he was spectacular.
Chapter 11, Part 1
After the successful conclusion of the negotiations over Angria, Picard
was relieved as he said good-bye to the mediators and negotiators in the
transporter room. Before stepping onto the transporter pad, Augusta went
up to Picard. "Captain, I want to thank you. You've been extraordinarily
fair to someone who almost blew up your ship."
"Well, I'll thank you not to try it again. I won't be so generous the
second time," said Picard drily, trying to cover up for the unease that
Augusta's presence stirred in him.
She leaned toward Picard, winking at Q over the Captain's shoulder, then
bestowed upon Picard a long farewell kiss. Then she turned around,
stepped briskly onto the transporter pad, and remarked, "A parting gift."
"Thank-you," murmured Picard, "you're too kind." As the transporter beam
began to shimmer, Picard hastily strode out of the transporter room,
thoroughly embarrassed, followed by by Q, who didn't know whether to be
jealous or amused. As they walked down the corridor, Picard snapped,
"Just don't say anything, OK? You and I both know what I'm feeling, so
keep your witty observations to yourself."
Q mimed zipping his mouth shut, but his laughing eyes provided sufficient
further embarrassment to the Captain. "Well, you acquitted yourself
admirably, Picard. You're a fine diplomat."
"And a tired one. Look Q, I've been neglecting Beverly shamefully . . . "
"Hmm, I can't imagine why."
Picard raised his eyebrows and sighed. "And I owe her a drink."
"Don't let *me* stand in your way. I'm sure she'll want to hear all about
your touching farewell with Augusta."
"Q!" exclaimed Picard in exasperation, but the entity had already
disappeared, leaving behind a disembodied mocking laugh.
The doctor did accept Picard's offer of a drink, but there was a marked
coolness in her manner. "And did you see Augusta safely off?" she asked.
"Yes, of course, diplomatic protocol and all that."
"Uh-huh. I see."
"Beverly," said Picard with some irritation, "I don't need this. Yes, she
was stunningly attractive. Yes, I found myself responding to her as did
every other male on this ship. Not to mention some of the women. So
what? I'm human, and I have impulses like anyone else, yourself
included. It's not as though you're immune to the charms of attractive
males. Don't think I didn't notice you and Deanna eyeing Augusta's
brother."
Beverly laughed, "You've got a point there. He *was* something. OK,
Jean-Luc, let's forget our recent visitors, OK?"
"I'd be delighted to. I've missed you, actually." He reached over and
took Beverly's hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb.
"I've missed you too."
They remained for a while in an awkward silence. Continuing to hold
hands, they conversed for a while about more mundane matters, then Beverly
paused. "Jean-Luc, you look exhausted. You need some sleep. Doctor's
orders."
He smiled, "Yes, sir. You certainly like invoking your medical authority
over me, don't you?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. And you're so stubborn the only way I can get
you to listen to medical advice is by ordering you. So, get to bed,
Captain."
Picard bowed. "I hear and obey, only I would like to defer my fulfillment
of your orders long enough to walk you to your quarters."
"Permission granted."
They lingered for a moment outside Beverly's door, then she quickly
stroked Picard's cheek, gave him a quick kiss, then went inside. He
sighed, completely unsure of where this relationship was going, and headed
back to his quarters.
* * *
//Devastated by grief, the entity wandered aimlessly from solar system to
solar system, trying to lose himself in continuous motion. He tried to
divert himself by viewing the most spectacular wonders the galaxy had to
offer, stars going supernova, solar systems forming, violent celestial
collisions, stellar flares, the works. Nothing held the remotest appeal
for him, and he could only think about the person who would have
appreciated these sights with him had that person still been alive. He
tried resuming his old habit of tormenting weaker species, but that
exercise too had lost its charms. Not only did sadistic pursuits not
bring him any joy, they did not even begin to stimulate him. He tried
switching tactics and doing good deeds, rescuing threatened planets from
plunging meteors, preventing landquakes and subduing volcanoes, stopping
wars between humanoid species, but these activities did not alleviate the
numbing stupor that had settled upon him either.//
//Finally, in a paroxysm of despair, he cast himself upon a ledge near a
mountain top on a planet in an isolated part of the galaxy. He lay there
for days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, overcome by an
irresistable inertia, aware only of "A grief without a pang, void, dark,
and drear, / A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief" as some 19th-century
earth poet had put it. He was too apathetic to recall the name.
Occasionally, however, he was buffeted by a wave of memory and emotion,
and a tear or two would make its way down his cheek, but inevitably numb
despair would set in again. Every few decades he would sense a voice
reaching out to him from one of his own kind, but he would ignore the
call. His own kind held no interest for him.//
//After centuries had passed, the entity murmured to himself, "I can't go
on like this," and was on the verge of collecting all his energies to make
the effort simply to blink himself out of existence, when an inspiration
flashed upon his soul. "I can't believe I've been so linear. I'm a Q,
damn it!" he exclaimed. He leapt to his feet, energy pervading his being,
and stepped back neatly in time to a past centuries ago. As the
unsuspecting USS Enterprise NCC-1701 D made its way toward Farpoint
Station, the entity hurled a gridlike, shimmering force field around the
ship. Appearing on the bridge, he announced in his most sepulchral voice,
"Thou art notified that thy kind hath infiltrated the galaxy too far
already. Thou art directed to return to thine own solar system
immediately." A wave of emotion washed over the entity as he beheld
Captain Jean-Luc Picard for the first time in centuries. He felt an
almost irrepressible joy mingled with an aching, yearning desire. He
maintained his stern demeanor, however, but inside he was tickled to death
to behold Picard's staunch defiance in the face of his immense power.//
//Picard calmly replied, "That's quite a directive. Would you mind
identifying what you are?"//
* * *
Picard stood outside Q's quarters, perplexed that Q had not answered the
door chime. Normally, whenever the impulse to speak to Q entered his
mind, Q instantly appeared, but this time there had been no reply to his
mental summons, even though the sensation of the connection with Q in his
mind remained. "Computer," demanded Picard, "override door lock." He
entered Q's quarters, to find the entity lying on his bed, eyes open, but
his entire body unmoving. Concerned, Picard sat down on the bed, shaking
Q gently, "Q, are you in there?"
Q stirred, blinked, and sat up suddenly. Much to Picard's surprise, he
actually looked disoriented for a moment. Then the entity shivered
slightly and sat hugging himself. "Jean-Luc," he spoke slowly, "I'm glad
to see you. You can't imagine how glad."
"I tried to call you, but you didn't answer. Were you asleep?"
"No, not exactly." Q was still speaking in a dreamy, abstracted tone.
"It was more like a waking dream, nightmare in this case. Sometimes,
while our current corporeal form remains in one time frame or universe, we
get into a kind of reverie that would be like an elaborate daydream for a
human--that's the closest analogy--but for us it's completely real while
we're in it. I may have appeared to be in a kind of trance, but my mind
was living hundreds of years into a possible future. It's a kind of
exploration, really, a way of testing out possible futures for myself. I
don't know which one will happen in this time frame, as it depends
partially on factors that are either out of my control or that I don't
think it would be appropriate for me to control, but it's a way of living
out some of the possibilities. I may have been only lying here for an
hour or so in your time, but I actually lived my own time line, a span of
centuries. That's why I seem so disoriented. It was quite an
experience."
Picard murmured softly,
"Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things."
"Wordsworth, right?" said Q. "Met him once. What an ego! But he did
have a facility for expressing certain states of mind that, as a Q, I
found remarkably familiar."
"Met Wordsworth?" said Picard, but his mind wasn't on that subject. He
continued, "I had an experience like that once. An alien probe, which had
been devised by a people who did not want their history to be consigned to
oblivion, took over my mind, and I lived half a lifetime--wife, children,
grandchildren. It seemed entirely real. I still feel like those people
are a part of my life."
"Well, they are. They're in your mind, and they exist there. Don't you
see, Picard? An experience like that should show you how limited your
human concept of 'reality' is. I've lived a number of different futures,
and they're all equally 'real.' I can live out this time frame, but I can
switch to another one, or repeat portions of my 'past' and in the process,
shape a different future. The possibilities are endless." Q paused,
rubbing his face with both hands, then shaking his head. "This one was a
doozy, however. I only wish you'd interrupted it a few centuries ago. I
think I could use one of Guinan's specialty drinks."
As Picard and Q walked to Ten-Forward, Picard asked, "So was Wordsworth
really as self-enamored as his poetry would seem to indicate?"
"Oh, you don't know the half of it," laughed Q. "That's why I find him so
appealing. He would have understood us: 'Our destiny, our being's heart
and home . . .'"
"Is with infinitude, and only there," concluded Picard.
"Jean-Luc!" exclaimed Q, "Why, you closet Romantic, you! What would your
crew think?"
Picard smiled, "We'll just keep that our secret, shall we, Q? Let's just
get that drink, OK?"
Rounding a corner on the way to Ten-Forward, they collided with a small
caravan of ghouls, witches, ghosts, and the like. Startled, Q jumped
backward a yard. "What the hell is that?" he exclaimed as a chorus of
giggles erupted from the small troupe.
"It's Halloween, Q," said Picard patiently.
"I knew that!"
Alexander, the leader of the group of children, apologized to Picard for
running into them. "Very well then, carry on," said Picard, and the
children continued their progress.
"Since when do you let these creatures have the run of your ship?"
"I don't usually. But Counselor Troi convinced me it would be salutory
for them to observe some of the favorite childhood holidays, Halloween
among them. Many cultures have a similar type of observance, actually.
So on certain occasions, I do permit the children the run of the ship,
except the bridge of course."
"I honestly don't see what you humans see in those undeveloped specimens
of your species."
"Well, I don't have much use for children, myself," admitted Picard.
"So you're not an entirely lost cause," interjected Q.
"But I have found some of the children to be quite remarkable on
occasion. You should spend some time with them."
"No thank you," said Q, shuddering. "I have to degrade myself enough to
lower myself to the level of *your* puny intellect, Picard. You can
hardly expect me to consort with even more deficient beings."
"Yes, of course, I forgot your tremendously gracious condescension in
coming down to my paltry level," said Picard, but he was smiling, quite
used to Q's tactless methods of teasing. "How foolish of me."
--
Atara Stein
"It brings a sense of order and stability to my universe to know that you're still a pompous
ass . . . and a damn sexy man."--Philippa Louvois to Picard in "The Measure of a Man"
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 11 (2/2)
Date: Sat, 19 Aug 1995 17:16:23 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 283
Message-ID:
NNTP-Posting-Host: user53.lightside.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 11, Part 2
"See what I mean?" said Q with a wink as they entered Ten-Forward. After
they sat down at a table near the window and got drinks, Q said suddenly,
"Jean-Luc, you've been working hard and deserve a break. Let's do
something fun."
"What did you have in mind?" asked Picard warily.
"A vacation. I can give you an experience you'll never forget, and you'll
only be away from the ship for an hour. And should some crisis erupt, as
it seems to do on this ship with frightening regularity, I can get you
back here in an instant."
"What do you propose?" said Picard, interested in spite of himself.
"Oh, I don't know. How'd you like to meet Shakespeare?"
"*Shakespeare??!!*" exclaimed Picard, aghast at Q's casualness.
"Yeah, Shakespeare. You know, British guy, wrote some plays. Sonnets
too!" said Q brightly, "'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' 'My
mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun,' 'Let me not to the marriage of
true minds . . .'"
"Enough!" snapped Picard. He repeated, "*Shakespeare?*"
"Shakespeare." replied Q. "He really did write his own plays, you know.
I can't *believe* people are *still* arguing about that."
"Meet . . . *Shakespeare*?"
"Is there an echo in here? Why not, Picard? He's a nice guy, knows how
to relax and have a good time, which is more than I can say for you,
Johnny." Q had gotten into the habit, whenever he wanted to provoke
Picard, of needling him with his academy nickname. "Johnny" had been
quite a bit more impetuous than his current incarnation. "How about it,
Jean-Luc? We could see "Hamlet" or maybe "The Tempest"--with drinks with
the cast afterward--that is it you think you can hold your ale. It'll be
the real stuff, not synthehol."
"I can hold my god damned ale," snapped Picard. "You know how hesitant I
am about altering time lines . . . "
"Oh, *that* again! I promise you, we won't change anything. I won't
brainwash the Bard into any untoward revisions of the plays or sonnets, if
that's what you're worried about."
Picard was clearly wavering. "It's against my better judgment, but . . .
Shakespeare!"
Q shook his head in amusement. "Haven't you realized by now, Picard, that
I'm your dark double? I'm the one who gets you to do things against your
better judgment. And you need me. You're too damned repressed and
duty-bound. You need me to talk you into occasional eruptions of
undisciplined self-indulgence. You know what happens when you repress
your impulses all the time? They simply emerge in a much more devastating
manner--as we nearly witnessed at the Cardassian border a while back.
Even the great Jean-Luc Picard needs to let his hair down--so to
speak--once in a while. Admit it, *Johnny*, you really enjoyed reliving
that fight with those Nausicaans. When that Nausicaan called you a coward
for a second time, and you replied, 'I thought that's what you said,' did
you hear the satisfaction in your own voice? Where would you be if I
hadn't given you that opportunity? The Jean-Luc Picard who follows his
impulses and who could find the humor in being stabbed through the heart
is in there somewhere, but you've become so completely self-disciplined
that you need *me* to bring him out. You may have 'great
responsibilities,'" said Q in a mocking imitation of Picard's accent and
inflection, "but you're entitled to have some fun once in a while. That's
what you thought you were getting with Vash, but I'm much better for you.
How about it?"
Picard looked up quickly at this comparison, which made no sense to him.
But then Q often said enigmatic things he couldn't make any sense of. He
replied, "You know, Q, you're absolutely certain you always know what's
best for me . . ."
"That's because I do. Did *I* encourage you to accept the powers of the
Q? You know I don't mean you any harm, and you ought to know by now that
I will respect your compulsive and mindless attachment to the flow of
history. Come on, I know you're dying to go. This won't be the holodeck;
this will be the real thing, at least as far as *you* understand reality."
"You can still keep an eye on the ship?"
"Do I have to define the word 'omniscient,' Picard?"
"All right. I'd love to go. And I'd like to see "The Tempest"; it's
always been one of my favorites." Picard tapped his communicator.
"Picard to Riker. I'm going to avail myself of Q's offer of a brief
vacation. You have the bridge, but Q will have me back here immediately
if anything comes up . . . "
"I'll have your Captain back in an hour," interrupted Q.
"Okay, Captain," came Riker's response. "Have a good time--you've earned it!"
* * *
Picard and Q materialized on a deserted road on the way to London, in the
year 1612. Picard noticed that he had acquired Elizabethan garb somewhere
along the way. "Oh, mon Capitaine," exclaimed Q with an impassioned gasp,
"I'd forgotten how much I enjoy seeing you in tights. Did it ever occur
to you that that might have been the point of the Robin Hood thing?"
"What are you going on about, Q?" muttered Picard, as he looked around,
trying to take in the fact that he was actually in Renaissance England.
"Oh, never mind."
As they approached the city, Q waved his hand in front of his face. "At
least your species has improved its methods of sanitation; of course, it
wouldn't take much to improve on this."
"It *is* rather pungent," acknowledged Picard. "But it's always difficult
to imagine how people could bear living in more primitive conditions than
those they're accustomed to."
"You're telling me!" declared Q. "But you have to admit I've adapted
quite nicely to your primitive little lifestyle."
"With the exception that you continously see fit to remind me how
primitive it is to you," snapped Picard. Then, after a pause, he mused,
"I don't believe this. I am walking into 17th century London, and I'm
wasting my time arguing with you. How do you do this to me?"
"Well, that's what makes me special," smiled Q, "but you have to admit you
have a unique talent for setting yourself up. I couldn't ask for more in
a straight man."
Picard sighed, and they continued on their way. Picard was in a
continuous state of amazement as he took in the buildings, the carriages,
the clothes. Turning a corner, he found himself looking at the Globe
theater. "It's the Globe!" he gasped.
"Of course, it's the Globe," said Q with a sigh of exasperation.
Picard delivered a backhand slap to Q's arm, and repeated "It's the *Globe*!"
"You know, Picard, time travel does not do wonders for your intellectual
acuity."
Picard absently slapped Q's arm again and exclaimed, "Do you have even the
faintest beginnings of an idea of what this means to me?"
"Of course, that's why I brought you here."
Suddenly, two men rushed out of the theater entrance. Spotting Picard,
one of them exclaimed, "Where have you been, laggard? It is past time to
dress!" As the men began hurrying Picard into the theater, he whirled
around to look at Q, who simply winked back.
A voice exploded inside Q's head, "//Q! Damn it! What do you think
you're doing? Q!//"
Q responded mentally, in a casual tone, "//Oh, did I forget to tell you?
Silly me. You're playing Prospero. Don't worry about your lines and
cues--they're all in your head. And they all think you're the regular
guy, so you don't need to worry about changing history or anything. He'll
wake up tomorrow completely convinced he actually played his part.//"
"//*Q!!!!*//"
"//Come off it, Jean-Luc. You can't tell me that you've never dreamed of
doing this. You only live once--carpe diem, that's what I say. Oh, and
Jean-Luc?//"
"//Yes?//" came the sighed response.
"//Break a leg!//"
Picard turned in a stirring performance as Prospero. Q was true to his
word; the lines flowed easily from his brain when needed, and he delivered
them with utter conviction. As the epilogue concluded with Prospero's
request for applause, "As you from crimes would pardon'd be / Let your
indulgence set me free," Shakespeare's company, the King's Men, received a
standing ovation, led by Q with shouts of "Bravo!" After drinks in a
local tavern, during the course of which Picard was thrilled to converse
with the Bard himself, Q and Picard were walking down a deserted street.
Picard turned to Q, saying "I ought to . . ."
"What you ought to do," snapped Q, "is get down on your knees right here
and thank me for giving you the experience of a lifetime."
"Well, I won't get on my knees, because God knows what's down there, but I
do thank you, with every iota of gratitude I can muster," said Picard
quietly. "I owe you so much, and I don't know how I know this, but I have
an intuition that some day I will be able to do something for you."
"You already have, Jean-Luc. So, do you want to stick around or head back?"
"I'd like to see the theater again."
"No sooner said than done," declared Q, and Picard found himself back on
the stage of the Globe.
He asked, almost breathlessly, "Is this real? Was that real before? I
mean, the play."
"Haven't you figured out what a pointless question that is to ask me?
Yes, it was real. You played Prospero. This is the year 1612; next year,
this theater is going to burn down and be rebuilt. Here, maybe this will
convince you, so you won't keep asking me foolish questions when we get
back." An actor's script materialized in Picard's hand. "You don't need
to worry," continued Q, "about affecting Shakespearean scholarship. This
particular copy was discarded, so no one will miss it."
Picard was speechless. He clutched the script in one hand and walked
around the stage, tentatively touching the curtains and doors. Almost
whispering, he said, "Q, I don't know what to say. Do you understand how
grateful I am, how much this means to me?"
"Of course I do. I can read your mind, remember? I don't believe I've
ever seen you have so much fun as when you were up there performing.
You're such a ham, Jean-Luc. But you know, you were really good. When
you gave the speech, 'Our revels now are ended,' it gave me chills."
"Thanks. But why didn't you take a part, my friend? It's not like you to
stay in the background."
"True enough. But this was *your* moment, and I couldn't think of
anything I'd rather be doing than watching *you*. Ready to go back?"
Picard touched one of the curtains again, rubbing the fabric lightly
between his thumb and fingers, then nodded. In a flash he found himself
alone in his quarters, holding the script. Q knew him well enough to
understand that after an experience such as that, Picard would want some
time alone to absorb it. Q joined him again later, however, and as they
were walking down a corridor, with Picard adjusting his uniform and trying
to get himself back into Captain mode, they ran into Riker.
"How was your vacation, Captain?"
"Excellent," replied Picard, while smiling at Q, "Let's just say it was a
most . . . ah . . . dramatic experience."
* * *
The next morning, breakfasting with Beverly, Picard was still musing on
the extraordinary experience he had had. He had experienced time travel
before, and he had been thrown into Q's scenarios often enough to adjust
quickly when his fellow actors dragged him off to the dressing room, but
the fact that he had actually been performing under Shakespeare's
direction was mind-boggling. He related the experience to Beverly in an
awed tone and showed her the script he had brought back. "I don't
understand it," Picard mused. "I don't know why Q goes out of his way to
do these things for me."
Beverly simply shook her head and laughed, "Well, Q certainly is right
about one thing. You really are obtuse."
"I don't suppose you're going to explain to me what you mean by that,"
remarked Picard in an irritated tone.
"Not in a million years," laughed Beverly getting up.
Picard quickly grasped her wrist, exclaiming "Beverly!" but she freed
herself with a quick twist of the arm, saying, "When it comes to Q, you're
on your own, Jean-Luc."
--
Atara Stein
"It brings a sense of order and stability to my universe to know that you're still a pompous
ass . . . and a damn sexy man."--Philippa Louvois to Picard in "The Measure of a Man"
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 12 (1/2)
Date: Wed, 23 Aug 1995 15:48:01 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 12, Part 1
Over the next few days, Picard and Q spent very little time together. It
was as if, after drawing closer for a time, they had an unspoken agreement
to back off for a while. Picard was occupied with the Enterprise's
current mission--to transport a group of scientists to study a newly
forming solar system. The scientists were from a variety of Federation
member planets, and accomodating their varying demands for equipment,
special food, and other perquisites was keeping Picard and his crew busy.
Almost every night there was a gathering in Ten-Forward to go over the
most recent data, and Picard felt obliged to join his guests, but after a
few days, he decided they could entertain each other perfectly well
without his presence, and he deputized Riker and La Forge, both convivial
types, to play host. And Data, of course, was always willing to share
knowledge with colleagues.
On his first free evening, Picard was in his quarters, dressing for a date
with Beverly. He had been neglecting her somewhat of late, even before
this current mission; he wasn't sure if it was that Q was monopolizing his
free time or if it was that he was encouraging Q to monopolize his free
time, but either way, he had not been spending enough time with Beverly,
whatever their relationship was. As he was finishing getting ready, a
voice echoed inside his head, "//Do you have a minute, Jean-Luc?//"
Picard answered in the affirmative, again puzzling over the peculiar
sensation he received from conversing with Q in this utterly private,
almost intimate fashion. Picard was growing more and more aware of his
telepathic connection with Q. He somehow knew instantly if Q had left or
returned to the ship, and he somehow always knew where to locate Q on the
ship, although he of course had no way of reading even the outermost layer
of Q's mind. He was also beginning to be aware when Q was reading his,
unless Q was particularly unobtrusive about it. In a blaze of light that
seemed brighter than usual, Q appeared. He was restless, beginning to
pace the second he appeared in the room, his entire being crackling with
nervous energy.
"Jean-Luc," he spoke rapidly as he paced, "I don't know if you've noticed,
but . . . I don't know the best way to put it, but things are getting a
little too comfortable for me here. You know, I'm not used to staying in
one place very long, or even of thinking of any particular place as
'home,' and it's starting to get to me. It has nothing to do with you, of
course; the time I spend with you is precious to me, but aside from you,
I'm starting to feel a little claustrophobic." He paused for a moment,
having noticed Picard's clothes for the first time. "Date?"
Picard nodded. "With the lovely Dr. C?" Picard nodded again. "Well,
this won't do at all," snapped Q impatiently, "much too formal. Too
pompous. You look like somebody's best man." At this, he snapped his
fingers, thereby making the offending garments disappear to be replaced
with a much more striking outfit with bolder colors, a wide sash, and an
open collar. Q reached out with both hands, adjusted the shoulders, then
took a step back with his head slightly tilted, admiring his handiwork
with pursed lips. "Much better."
Picard turned to look in the mirror, equally pleased with the result; at
the same time he was trying to cover for that inexplicable tingle of
electricity that he felt whenever Q touched him. He suspected it was a
vestige of an instinctive fear of Q's overwhelming power, and he certainly
did not want to let it show. Otherwise, he was quite used to Q's
autocratic ways by now, and saw no need to comment any further than to
say, "Thank you. Your fashion sense is impeccable."
"Naturally," replied the entity. "Now, as I was saying, I think I need
some time to myself to travel for a while, do a little exploring, stretch
my muscles a bit." He went back to pacing. "Part of it is that while
I've been enjoying being on good terms with the crew, and I'm learning all
sorts of fascinating things about human nature, I feel like I'm starting
to be taken for granted. Deanna and Geordi actually invited *me* to their
poker game! Poker? Moi? I'm a Q, for God's sake. I couldn't stop
myself from reading all the cards and giving myself perfect hands even if
I wanted to; it would be like an involuntary reflex. If people are
starting to invite *me* to poker games, then something's terribly,
terribly wrong."
Picard laughed, shaking his head in bemusement. He walked over to the
sofa, saying, "Come here and sit down. You're making me nervous."
Q obeyed with a heavy sigh. "What *is* so amusing, Captain?"
"You are, mon ami. You're perfectly happy to have everyone on edge just
by your presence, but you just can't stand it that people have come to
trust you and feel comfortable around you. Yet before you encountered us,
you were equally bored and restless and wanted to join the crew to
alleviate your boredom."
"I can't win, can I?"
"Apparently not. But don't you see what a tremendous transformation has
taken place? It's not that everyone has forgotten what you're capable of;
it's that *you've* created that level of comfort by your behavior. When
you're not throwing your weight around, you're very good company, and with
a few exceptions, the crew enjoys having you around. That's not a bad
thing, Q."
Q sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "I *know* that; I know
that's what I came here for. I'm both flattered and touched by the way
I've been received. But at the same time, I'm starting to feel
suffocated. I'm not used to being the object of all this goodwill and
warm feeling. I don't even recognize myself half the time."
"Well, if you ask me, there are elements of your personality that I'm just
as glad aren't manifesting themselves. But what you're saying makes
sense. You've spent centuries getting attention and reinforcing your
image of yourself through fear and intimidation; it's understandable that
warming up to people and receiving their goodwill in return would be new
to you and make you uncomfortable. But you have to realize that you've
risen in our esteem as you've made an effort to adapt to us. You think
you've been somehow diminished because people aren't in awe of your
presence, but I've got news for you, we never were." Q stopped fidgeting
and looked directly at Picard, who continued. "You certainly made us
angry, and we certainly became aware of how powerful you are and how
vulnerable we were by contrast--we felt fear on occasions, but never awe.
I'm afraid we never respected you enough to feel awe."
"You wound me, mon Capitaine."
Picard smiled gently. "Q, Q, you're a conundrum, you know that? If it's
any consolation, I feel genuine respect for you now because I've seen you
curb your natural impulses toward causing trouble in a genuine effort to
be considerate to the rest of us. And I feel genuine respect for you now
because I've seen how judicious you've been in using your power. You
rescued the ship during our mission to Angria, and you've helped out in
other ways. You know, you've been doing a lot of good. Look, you've even
improved my wardrobe."
"Yeah, and let me tell you, it needs help."
"What will you do with yourself while you're gone?"
Q replied, "Oh travel, sightsee, the usual. I'm not going to do anything
you'd disapprove of, so don't worry about that. But I do need to hit the
road for a while. I'll be back of course. And if you need me for
anything, you can just call me. Don't try to prove how self-sufficient
you are just because I'm not around; it something comes up, I want to be
here."
"I understand," said Picard.
Q was beginning to get irritated at Picard's calm and soothing demeanor.
With an almost violent spasm, he mentally burst into Picard's mind,
absorbing all of it instantaneously. Then what Picard said utterly
startled him. "You don't have to do that to know I'm going to miss you,"
said the Captain evenly, "I was going to tell you. And I was going to
ask if we could talk sometimes while you're gone."
"Of course we can. I'm sorry, Jean-Luc; I can't believe I didn't realize
you're starting to be able to sense my presence in your mind as well as
the extent of it." He smiled affectionately, "Well, it looks like I can
no longer be a cad undetected. I'm impressed, Jean-Luc--maybe you're not
as hopeless as I thought. And I'm going to miss you too, but there's
something else I need to tell you. Your officers normally aren't dumb
enough to invite an omniscient entity to a poker game. They're dumb, but
not *that* dumb."
"What are you getting at?"
Q sighed. "Let me see if I can explain this. Have you noticed a certain
laxness among the crew since I came on board?"
"Yes, for instance, the deflector failure was very uncharacteristic.
Geordi's staff doesn't usually make that kind of mistake. They wouldn't
be here if they did."
"Exactly. Now, right before I came to offer you the powers, you had a
dream about me, right?"
"Yes," murmured Picard. "Actually it was more like a nightmare. No offense."
"None taken," replied Q with a strained smile, as he got up and resumed
pacing. "You're not the only one who did either. There are certain
mental or emotional states among us that have effects which reverberate
beyond ourselves. We sometimes experience a kind of emotional conflict
that causes so much tension that our psychic energy starts to bleed out
and have an effect on others. It's equivalent to a kind of mild
telepathic influence except it's totally unintentional when it happens.
We actually project emotions that cause us discomfort onto others; it's an
unfortunate defense mechanism that our telepathic abilities make
possible.
When the Continuum was insisting that I make you the offer, I was so torn
between my fear of the possible consequences and . . . well . . . my fear
of the Continuum, it was as if I couldn't contain all the psychic energy
this conflict was provoking. Hence your nightmares. I was
unintentionally telepathically influencing you as a way to release what
you would call stress. And I think I'm having the opposite effect now."
Q's pacing grew more frenetic; he started chewing on his thumbnail in a
display of uncharacteristic nervousness. He continued, hesitantly, his
eyes firmly fixed on the ground as he paced, "Although my self-sufficiency
is one of the qualities I value most, I apparently seem . . . well . . .
ah . . . to have a . . . this isn't easy for me, Picard . . . a powerful
desire to be accepted by you and your crew. I suspect I've been
inadvertently influencing some of your crew," he sighed, "in my favor.
Mind you, I'm not going so far as to brainwash them," he added, a little
too quickly. Nervously twisting his hands together, he explained, "I
can't force people to feel something opposite to their real feelings when
I'm not making a conscious effort to, but I can subconsciously enhance a
tendency already in a person's mind, however buried or latent. And this
way I've been able to convince myself that I'm really here because you all
can't do without me. I'm sorry, Jean-Luc, I honestly didn't realize this
was going on until now, and it won't happen any more now that I'm aware of
it. Don't take this personally, but your species seems particularly
susceptible to our psychic influence," Q concluded somewhat defensively.
Picard was actually smiling at this recital. "You're really embarrassed
about this, aren't you?"
"About what?"
"About craving the companionship of us *puny* humans so much that you've
been subconsciously projecting that need onto us. Ironic isn't it, my
misanthropic and superior friend?"
"Why don't you stick the knife in a little deeper and twist it a few
times, Picard?" snapped Q, but at the same time he was capricious enough
to respect the fact that Picard was taking advantage of his vulnerability,
moving in for the kill when the opportunity presented itself. Q himself,
of course, would have done the same thing and much more cruelly at that.
He added, "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"
"As a matter of fact, I am," said Picard bluntly. "You seem to have
revealed your Achilles' heel."
"Soft underbelly is more like it," said Q bitterly. He had stopped pacing
and was standing slumped, his arms folded.
Picard got up and walked up to Q. "Well, I won't tell anybody your little
secret, but is that such a crime in the Continuum, to desire friendship?
Is that why you're so embarrassed?"
"Picard, you couldn't possibly understand my relationship with the rest of
the Q. It has a history that goes back long before your earth's
prehistory. Let's drop it, OK? And regardless of what I may or may not,
in weak moments, want, I am *not* going to start joining the gang for a
few hands of poker!"
"No, no, of course not. That would be beneath you. You know, I haven't
seen you like this since you were without your powers," said Picard,
amused. "What do you want with us, Q? Do you have *any* idea?"
"Maybe, maybe not. What the hell do *you* want, Picard? Do *you* know?
Do you want me to tell you how your date is going to go tonight? You'll
have a romantic dinner, wine, candlelight--very civilized. You'll
exchange a few chaste kisses, perhaps, but Dr. C will go back to her own
quarters, and you'll each sleep alone, all the while wondering what it
would be like to be together. You're a fine one to needle *me* about
being embarrassed about emotions, *ice-man*! But don't let me keep you
from your *date*."
Picard's face turned white. He was speechless with rage, a rage that was
exacerbated by the knowledge that Q was absolutely right. Q laughed
derisively. "*Gotcha*, didn't I? You may be able to win the occasional
battle, Picard. I'll admit I have my soft spots. But you're just asking
for trouble. I can get under your skin so fast it'll make your head
spin. Not only do I *know* you inside out, but I can *turn* you inside
out, my repressed friend. Push me as far as you *dare*, Picard, but be
prepared to face the *music*."
"You're right, Q," admitted Picard with a sigh, who knew better than to
pursue a losing battle, particularly with Q, whose utter ruthlessness
combined with his telepathic powers gave him an unbeatable advantage.
"Truce?" He offered his hand to Q who shook it with a satisfied smile.
"Cease-fire, anyway," replied the entity. "Until I return. I can't
resist a parting shot, however." He placed his hands lightly on his
victim's shoulders, noting with satisfaction Picard's inevitable slight
tremor at his touch, and said, "You have no idea how much satisfaction it
gives me to hear you say 'You're right, Q.' You're so beautiful when you
surrender." Q then kissed Picard on the forehead. "Au revoir, mon
Capitaine."
"Au revoir, Q," murmured Picard as Q disappeared in a more than usually
blinding flash. Picard actually felt the ship lurch slightly, testimony
to just how much nervous energy Q needed to dissipate. As he lit candles
and set the table for his date, trying to ignore his embarrassment at Q's
parting gesture, he was more than a little surprised to find himself
feeling a little wistful and saddened at Q's departure. "//I really am
going to miss the bastard//," he thought to himself.
When Beverly arrived, she complimented him profusely on his new clothes.
"Well, Jean-Luc, you look absolutely stunning. Who's your tailor?"
"Q, actually. I have to admit, he's got excellent taste. Have you ever
been inside his quarters?"
Picard's casual mention of Q made Beverly feel a brief clutch of fear in
her heart. She quickly changed the subject. They conversed casually over
dinner, with Picard entertaining his companion by doing mercilessly
accurate imitations of some of the visiting scientists with their
interminable demands. He was uncharacteristically irreverent, trying to
break through the reserve he and Beverly were both feeling. She laughed
heartily, and after a few glasses of wine, they both began to feel more at
ease.
Picard couldn't help thinking about their marriage and divorce in the
projected future Q had taken him to when he had been travelling in time to
solve the puzzle the Continuum had set up. He had actually surprised
himself by telling his officers about the future he had seen, but his
concerns about them drifting apart seemed more significant than the
problem of altering a future that was probably not predetermined anyway.
But telling Beverly they had been married and divorced was the hardest;
neither part of that projected future sounded very appealing to him. It
just seemed to confirm to him that he wasn't cut out for that type of
commitment; he would undoubtedly drive any spouse to distraction. He
glanced at Beverly as he sipped his wine; she seemed to be thinking about
the same thing. Although he didn't regret telling her about it, it had
put a barrier between them. And from Beverly's perspective, there was the
additional complication of Q's obvious romantic interest in Picard
(obvious to everyone but its object). She could tell that Q was wooing
Picard in his own fashion, but the Captain remained blissfully oblivious
to Q's ulterior motives. The question was, how would he react when it
finally sunk in? Q was extremely annoying, but Beverly could imagine that
it would be flattering to be pursued by such a powerful being, regardless
of gender or other concerns.
Picard got up suddenly, uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen
over both of them. "I have a treat for you. Dr. Cameron brought them
from Earth; he's from Seattle, and he likes to show off the specialties of
that region. Did you like the wine? It was from that area as well."
"It was very good. What's your treat?"
Picard brought out a box, but kept his hand over the lid. "Close your
eyes. Trust me." Beverly closed her eyes and opened her mouth, and
Picard deposited a chocolate covered blueberry on her tongue.
"Oh, that's good," she moaned, "another." Picard complied, smiling, then
bent down to kiss her lightly while the taste of chocolate remained on her
lips. "Umm," said Beverly, "I'm going to become as much of a chocoholic
as Deanna if you keep that up."
Picard was refilling the wine glasses, then beckoned to the couch, "Sit
with me, please. I promise I'll only misbehave a little."
"Why only a little?" asked Beverly, sitting next to him and taking her
wine glass.
"Because neither of us is ready for more than that; don't you agree?"
Beverly nodded, and Picard continued, "But I have been thinking about
kissing you all day."
"That sounds like rather a dereliction of duty, Captain. You have an
important scientific mission you're responsible for."
"Quite so," responded Picard, twirling his wine glass, "but even I can't
be responsible every second of every day, now can I? Some things just
take precedence over my responsibilities." Beverly was too entranced to
notice what a Q-like statement that was; if she had she would have been
concerned about the extent of the entity's influence on Picard, but she
had other things on her mind. Picard lightly touched his wine glass to
hers, then, with his free hand, he combed her hair back from her forehead,
stroked her cheek, then leaned in for a long kiss. Beverly put her hand
on the back of Jean-Luc's neck to pull him closer, and in the process,
they forgot their wine glasses, managing to spill a considerable amount
over both of them. Both dissolved into laughter, and Picard remarked,
"Well, it's a good thing it was white wine." He put the glasses safely
out of range then returned to the sofa. Noticing a drop of wine that was
slowly trickling down his companion's neck, he leaned forward to catch it
with his lips, then remarked, "I am a Frenchman after all. Never waste
good wine."
"Words to live by," laughed Beverly. Despite the intimacy between them,
they still sat slightly apart, leaning together to kiss, then drawing
slightly apart again.
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 12 (2/2)
Date: Wed, 23 Aug 1995 15:53:29 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 329
Message-ID:
NNTP-Posting-Host: user54.lightside.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 12, Part 2
Picard took Beverly's hand in his, sighed slightly, then said softly, "I'm
afraid I must be very difficult for you to put up with these days."
"So what's new? When were you ever easy?"
He smiled, "Indeed. I just worry that I've been more difficult than usual
since the time the Continuum put me on trial again. I think it was
important to share what I learned, but it has confused things between us."
"They were confused before, too, Jean-Luc. I . . . I don't think I know
what I want any more than you do. I love these evenings and our
breakfasts together, but beyond that, I just don't know. I care about you
so deeply, but I don't know if I can ever marry again. That may seem
foolish after all these years, but I think I've done pretty well for
myself. You're not the only one who needs a certain amount of breathing
space to thrive."
Jean-Luc lifted Beverly's hand to his lips and remarked, "I don't know if
I've ever put it quite this way before, but do you understand how much you
impress me? You tend to keep that determined will of yours under wraps,
but I'm always aware of it. It wouldn't surprise me at all to see you
become Captain of your own ship some day."
"Mmm," mused Beverly. "I've been thinking about that ever since you told
me. Not that it hadn't occurred to me before. CMO of the Enterprise is a
wonderful position; one couldn't ask for more in a career, but I do
sometimes consider the possibility of trying something new one of these
years."
"Well, *I*'d hate to lose you, Doctor, for professional and personal
reasons. I hope you're not contemplating any immediate career changes."
"No not immediate. I'm very happy here. There is one thing, Jean-Luc.
You don't owe me any explanations, of course, but I just have to say how
much it disturbs me that I have no idea what happened to you right before
Q came on board. I'm used to *this* barrier between us," she gestured at
the space between them, "because neither of us is ready to take this
further, but do you remember when we were telepathically linked?"
"How could I forget?"
"It hurts me that you won't confide in me . . . and it frightens me a
little too."
"You're right, of course. I should have told you, but I think I was
worried you would think so much less of me. I've never done anything
quite so foolish . . . and utterly dangerous. I'll tell you now, but I
want to invoke doctor-patient confidentiality here. I suspect if you'd
known before you would have relieved me of command; I certainly wasn't
myself when I first returned to the ship, but it was important that I
recover at least an illusion of normalcy as quickly as possible. And Q
really was, and continues to be, a tremendous help. He's read my mind so
thoroughly that I'm sure he knows me better than I know myself. It makes
me uncomfortable, actually, knowing that I'll never have even a fraction
of that much insight into him, but I couldn't have gotten through this
without him."
"What happened?"
Picard put his head in his hand, slowly rubbing his hand over his face and
forehead. Then he looked up, almost whispering, "I hope you'll be able to
forgive my folly when you hear of it. I know I haven't been able to."
Beverly took his hands in hers, and he continued, "Q recently remarked
that he is, in some ways, my darker side. He somehow gets me to act on
impulses that I would normally never act on, such as when he took me back
in time, and I relived the fight with those Nausicaans. I don't like to
admit it, but it really was . . . well . . . fun. In fact, I thoroughly
enjoyed it. And I think he's actually good for me that way. On this
occasion, he was actually trying to *stop* me from acting on my worst
impulses, and I mean my *worst*, but my arrogance, my pride got the better
of me. Q has proved me wrong on so many occasions, that I had this
irresistable compulsion to take the bait he was being forced to offer
me--I wanted to triumph over him, to force him to acknowledge . . . I
don't know . . . my ability, my intelligence, my competence." Picard
hesitated, and Beverly was alarmed to see his eyes begin to glisten as he
told her the whole story, from Q's initial reluctant kidnapping of him to
Q's self-invitation on board the Enterprise. He related all the events in
a dull, weary, numb tone, his only emotion being betrayed by his
occasional blinking away tears. "I became a monster, Beverly," he
concluded. "Q's powers were far too much for me to handle, but I'm so
horrified that I accepted them in the first place. That was utterly
unpardonable."
She put her arms around him and pulled his head onto her shoulder.
"Foolish and reckless, yes; unpardonable, no."
He burrowed his his head further into her neck. "It's actually a great
relief telling you. Verbalizing it and knowing I did no permanent harm
makes it seem a little less devastating."
"Knowing how hard you are on yourself, how have you dealt with it as well
as you have?"
"Q actually has some wisdom and insight, despite his capriciousness and
self-indulgence," replied Picard. "He gave me a well-deserved and severe
tongue lashing immediately afterward." He smiled, "It was actually an
impressive performance. But from that point on, his position was that I
shouldn't waste my time and energy regretting what was past, when I had
more pressing business to attend to. He managed to convince me that he
was right. Not that the incident hasn't been haunting me, because it has,
but Q made certain it didn't impair my ability to do my duties."
"Well, he was right," acknowledged Beverly, somewhat surprised.
"Do you know?" asked Picard, raising his head and sitting up straight
again, "he actually apologized for losing his temper with me? Guinan put
it into his head that he was also to blame, for I wouldn't have accepted
the offer from another member of the Continuum."
"That makes sense. Q can push your buttons like nobody else can."
"Yes," sighed Picard, "and what I can't get over is what an easy target I
seem to make myself for him. He probably took off to look for some
greater challenges."
Picard was smiling, but Beverly, sounding almost like Deanna, said softly,
"You miss him."
Picard nodded, then said, "But what I'm interested in right now is what
you think. At least you haven't fled from me in horror."
"Of course not, Jean-Luc." She leaned forward and kissed him on the
forehead. "You're human; you made a human mistake in wanting to get back
at Q in that fashion. It's just that between Q and the Continuum, they
give you opportunities to make mistakes on a much larger scale than you
normally would."
"Isn't that the truth?" Having already bared his soul to Beverly, he
allowed himself the indulgence of curling up against her, head on her
shoulder, and they remained that way for some time, both feeling far more
at ease than they had at the beginning of the evening.
"It's late," Beverly eventually murmured. "I should go." Picard nodded,
stood up, extended a hand to Beverly to help her up, then wrapped her in a
tight embrace. She remained for a moment with her head pressed against
his chest, then looked up. "Do I get a good-night kiss?"
"Mmm," replied Picard, "I should think so."
* * *
Over the next couple of weeks, Picard and Beverly drew closer together,
having regular breakfast and dinner dates. Picard found himself musing
frequently over the fact that while he missed Q, quite a bit in fact, he
also felt more relaxed not having him around. Q's presence generated an
inevitable level of tension, but what Picard couldn't figure out was
whether he preferred to be with or without it. Q checked in mentally
every few days, but he was also keeping tabs on Picard's relationship with
Beverly from afar, and he thought it best to keep out of the way. In
addition, Q didn't find the Enterprise's current mission terribly
exciting. He had seen plenty of solar systems form over the course of his
lifetime, and the fact that so many scientists were converging on such a
non-event further confirmed his conviction of the paltriness of human
scientific pursuits. Didn't they have *anything* better to occupy
themselves with? Q's frustration with the state of his courtship and his
natural restlessness were impelling him to do some exploring, but
something held him back. Had he gone exploring, however, he might have
encountered something that would freeze even *his* soul, something that
was making leisurely but determined progress further into the galaxy.
Fortunately for himself, Q remained in familiar territory, but jealous of
Picard's attachment to Beverly Crusher and humiliated at the thought of
competing with her, Q didn't see any reason to return to the Enterprise in
the near future. He finally betook himself to his mountaintop refuge,
figuring what he couldn't have in actuality he could have in his
imagination. It would be real to him, and Picard would never be the
wiser.
* * *
No sooner had the visiting scientists on board the Enterprise concluded
their investigations and experiments and been deposited at Starbase 143 to
hold a conference on the results, when the Enterprise received a distress
call from the terraforming colony on Ulro III. The terraformers had
accidentally triggered a massive quake that had overwhelmed their
equipment and facilities. As the Enterprise leapt into warp, Crusher and
her staff were making rapid preparations.
As soon as the ship entered orbit, Crusher and her team beamed down to
behold utter devastation. Except for a central structure housing
computers and equipment, the rest of the buildings had been thrown up
rather hastily. Terraformers tended to be a hardy lot, and they took
pride in their spartan and utilitarian living conditions. There was not
much left to take pride in. But the ones who were not severely injured
were already digging out survivors from under crushed buildings and fallen
rocks. Data immediately sprung into action, his superior strength greatly
facilitating the process. As the away team spread out, looking for
survivors, Beverly was following some life sign readings on her tricorder
and found herself quite a distance from the rest of the away team. The
readings grew stronger as she approached the base of a rocky ledge. They
seemed to be emanating from a small cave considerably above. The way
looked precarious, and she wasn't happy; she never liked heights, and this
wasn't the holodeck. Still, climb she must, and she did. Of course the
medical kit slung over her shoulder didn't help. Carefully testing each
handhold and foothold, she slowly ascended, reminding herself not to look
down. She was suddenly startled when her communicator beeped. "Riker to
Crusher. Report."
With a sharp intake of breath, she paused in her ascent, and responded,
"Crusher here. I'm reading life signs in a cave on top of a ledge, and
I'm on my way up."
"You shouldn't be alone. I'll send Data to assist."
"Acknowledged. Crusher out."
She continued her ascent, gasping as a small rock went skittering away
from under her foot and plunged downward. "I knew there was a reason I
didn't like heights," she muttered to herself. As she approached the top,
she could hear a voice calling faintly for help. Spurred on by the
knowledge she had work to do, she climbed more purposefully. Fortunately
there was a solid rock jutting out from the ledge that gave her an easy
handhold to pull herself up. The ledge was narrow, and the mouth of the
cave was partially blocked by boulders, but there was an entrance narrow
enough for her to squeeze in.
A young woman lay partially pinned under a fallen boulder; her body was
partially twisted, and she was lying face down. "My leg," she whispered,
as Crusher scanned her with a medical tricorder.
"You're going to be all right," said Crusher with a reassuring smile.
"I'm a doctor. I'm going to give you something for the pain, then we'll
take a look at that leg." As she administered the hypospray, she thought,
"//Where the hell is Data?//" "Your leg's going to be fine; we just have
to get you up to the ship. You should be walking on it again in a couple
of days." The young woman nodded and tried to muster a smile. "Was there
anyone else with you?" asked the doctor.
"Yes, two" whispered the young woman. "They were doing geological studies
further up."
"We'll look for them as soon as we get you stabilized." Moments later,
Data squeezed into the cave. "Can you get that boulder off of her? I
need to get her up to the ship."
"Yes, Doctor." Data lifted off the heavy boulder with ease, and Crusher
signaled the Enterprise, "one to beam up, directly to sick bay."
"Come on, Doctor. This cave is not safe."
"She said there were two others farther up."
Data nodded. "There is a kind of path leading up four meters along the ledge."
"Let's go," said Beverly. Data helped her out of the narrow cave opening,
then began to move along the ledge a few steps ahead of the doctor.
Suddenly there was a tremendous jolt. Another quake rocked the planet's
surface. As Data whirled around toward Beverly, he saw a falling boulder
strike her in the head as she was knocked off-balance and plunged off the
ledge. Even for Data, who registered the passing of time completely
objectively, the shaking seemed to go on for minutes. As soon as it
stopped, he scrambled hastily down the decline to look for the doctor.
* * *
//Q, invisible, reclined on the lounge chair in Picard's quarters, waiting
for the Captain to be off-duty. When Picard entered, Q remained
invisible, shamelessly watching as Picard removed his uniform and
stretched, bending his waist with his arms over his head, while Q happily
admired the play of his muscles, then headed for the shower. After having
changed into pajamas, he stood in his bedroom, rotating his head to
release the tension in his neck and shoulders. He was not surprised when
he felt a pair of invisible thumbs begin to rub his neck. "I knew you
were here," said Picard quietly. "I could tell as soon as I walked in the
room."//
//A voice replied right next to his ear, "Did you now? So that stretching
exhibition was for my benefit?"//
//Picard felt a pair of invisible arms circle his waist from behind, and
he closed his eyes, wrapped his own arms around those that were encircling
him, and leaned back into the invisible form behind him, as an invisible
hand slipped inside the V-shaped opening of his shirt and a set of
fingertips ran up and down his side from waist to chest. Feeling a pair
of lips on his neck, he drew in his breath sharply, then murmured, "Why
don't you show yourself?"//
//"All in good time, mon Capitaine, all in good time."//
//"You have me at rather a disadvantage," noted Picard, as the lips
traveled to his shoulder.//
//"Precisely. My powers have to be good for something, don't they?"//
//"Mmm," replied Picard slowly, "but they're no match for my reflexes."
He spun around suddenly, releasing himself from Q's grasp, and grabbing
the invisible entity before he had time to react. Q found himself being
pushed onto the bed, and he was so startled that he lost his
concentration, and became visible again.//
//"//Damn!//" thought Q to himself.//
//Picard stepped back, adjusting his pajama shirt with a satisfied tug.
Smiling a devastating smile, he remarked calmly, "Haven't you learned by
now never to underestimate me?"//
//Q leaned back on the bed, gazed at Picard through half-closed eyes, and
replied, "Apparently not. You'll just have to show me what you're capable
of, *human*."//
//"My pleasure."//
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 13 (1/2)
Date: Fri, 25 Aug 1995 16:50:51 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
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Message-ID:
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 13, Part 1
Q's implausible reverie was suddenly interrupted when an anguished cry of
"//Q!//" broke in on his consciousness. "Just when it was getting good,"
he muttered to himself. Within seconds he was back on the ship,
materializing in sick bay, whence Picard had summoned him. He was *not*
in a good mood. "You called?" asked Q nonchalantly.
Picard looked terrified. He was standing next to one of the biobeds on
which the mangled body of Beverly Crusher had been placed. Q himself felt
slightly sickened at the sight of the bruises and swelling and blood. But
he was in a particularly perverse mood and had no intention of making
anything easy for anybody. "Please Q," pleaded Picard, "you know why I
called you. I know you can help her. Please. I need your help."
Q looked unconcerned. "Why, Captain, death is one of the hazards of your
mission. Would you have me suspend the laws of nature, those laws to
which you humans are so utterly bound, and make an exception?"
"Damn it, Q, YES!"
"I honestly don't know what the Continuum would think of me bringing you
mortals back from the dead right and left. It seems like that would be a
major interference in your natural development."
"Q, she was trying to help the injured. She didn't deserve to die that way."
Q's voice grew increasingly menacing. "Of course she didn't. Life isn't
fair. Neither is death. In fact, it's downright irrational. There's no
plan; people die who deserve long lives, and those who deserve an early
death live years beyond their time. You know this; she knew this."
Picard fairly roared, "I don't care about what's fair, and I don't care
about what the Continuum thinks. BRING HER BACK!"
"Whatever you say, Captain." Q gave a dismissive flip of the hand.
"She'll wake up in a minute or so. Any more miracles you'd like me to
perform? It's a dirty job, but apparently *somebody*'s got to do it."
With that, he disappeared.
Picard ran to Beverly's side and was holding her hand as she opened her
eyes. "It's all right, now, Beverly. You were hurt."
"Jean-Luc," she murmured, "I was sure I was dead. The ground was shaking,
and something hit me in the head." Picard hesitated.
"What is it, Jean-Luc?"
"You were dead, I think; Q brought you back."
"Q--why?"
"I asked him to. I couldn't bear that you should die that way."
"Jean-Luc," she smiled and kissed Picard's hand. Beverly started to get
up, but Picard and the medical staff tried to stop her. "I feel perfectly
fine, like nothing happened. You'll have to thank Q for me; I wish *I*
could practice medicine like that."
Once he was sure she was all right, Picard checked on the condition of the
evacuated colonists, then ordered the ship to the nearest Starbase to drop
them off. Later that night, in his quarters, after having changed into
his pajamas, Picard sat on the edge of his bed, feeling troubled. With
his trademark flash of light, Q appeared next to him. "I must compliment
you on your taste in night clothes, mon Capitaine. Very fetching."
Picard murmured thank-you. His conscious mind had barely processed the
remark, but within his subconscious, a small key turned a notch, and a
sliver of light entered the room.
"Q, I don't know how to thank-you or where to begin. Beverly, of course,
wanted to thank you too."
"Oh, please spare me that. Anyway, don't thank me yourself. It was
nothing. Really. Just call on Q when you're not willing to make the
effort to do something yourself."
"What are you talking about?"
"You could have done it yourself, Picard, only you're so bound by your
limited way of seeing things, that it never entered your mind."
"I don't understand. I couldn't bring Beverly back to life."
"And this is the man that only a few weeks ago was about to smash an
entire Cardassian fleet into sub-atomic particles if I hadn't stopped
you."
"I had your power then," said Picard, utterly lost, "You took it back."
"So I said at the time; maybe I never gave it to you in the first place,
or maybe I did and never took it back, or maybe it happened just as you
think it did. I'm not going to tell you," Q smiled. "You have absolutely
not the beginnings of an idea of what the mind can do. Much to my dismay,
you and the doctor have a bond that transcends your physical and
intellectual limitations. If you really put your mind to it, you could
have brought her back, as long as you believed you could."
Picard murmured, "I'm not a doctor, Q."
"I know, you're a starship captain. That has nothing to do with it. You
humans have such utterly primitive medical techniques anyway--*I* wouldn't
want to have to rely on them. They're irrelevant. Don't you get it? The
mind is everything, Picard. This ship seems solid enough to you," Q
thumped on the wall, "but it's as fragmentary and illusory as anything
else. Watch." Q passed his hand through the wall and back. "That wall,
this ship, those stars and planets out there give the illusion of
solidity. They're solid because you believe them to be. I, however,
perceive them at the quantum level, in a state of constant instability and
flux. When I wish for an object to support me, like this bed, I think of
it as solid, but when I want to pass through an object, I insert myself
through it in quantum terms. You don't need your transporter to do that.
It's all mind. I could blow up your ship with a thought; I only have to
imagine the molecules breaking apart, the forces that hold them together
being nullified. I don't need a phaser or photon torpedo for that.
Matter is just a bunch of subatomic particles in flux, held together with
quantum forces; my mind can exert even greater forces to either disrupt
those connections or forge new ones. Want a replica of the Enterprise? I
could create it in an instant, and you wouldn't be able to tell the
difference between it and this ship, that crew and yourselves. Life and
death are states of mind, and you remain subject to death as long as you
believe it is something that happens to you, that you can't control. I
honestly don't see how someone with as much potential as yourself can be
so hopelessly dense, Picard. Haven't your experiences with different time
lines taught you that this reality you're so grounded in is simply a
function of your perceptions and the perceptions of those around you?
It's an illusion. History is an illusion. I could alter history
permanently with the merest tinkering of any point in what you see as the
past, and the result wouldn't be any more or less real than what you think
of as reality now. Remember your Shakespeare's Tempest; you made the
speech, and he was right, you know. This is all an 'insubstantial
pageant.' We're all living a dream; it's just that some of us have more
conscious control over the dream we choose to live in than others."
The Captain's head was spinning. "You're right, Q. I'm hopelessly dense,
my brain is in a muddle, and even as I understand your words, I have no
idea how to make what you say real to me. I understand that you can use
your mind to manipulate matter, energy, space, and time, but I've always
assumed it is simply because your species somehow evolved that way."
"We did, but that's because we chose to. You could too. Your limitations
are self-imposed, Jean-Luc. And if you expect me to solve every little
problem you're faced with, you're never going to learn anything."
"I cannot dismiss Beverly's death as a 'little problem.' To me it was an
insurmountable problem. I admit my limitations, and I'm sorry I'm such a
disappointment to you, and I'm sorry I can't grasp what you're saying, but
I needed your help. I asked for it. I don't expect you to be gracious
about helping, but I appreciate it. Thank you. To me, it was a miracle."
Q softened, "Well, I wish you wouldn't thank me. It was no sweat, so
don't go around treating me like a saint all of a sudden."
Picard grinned. "Q, don't worry. Sainthood is the very least of the
qualities I would attribute to you."
"That's a relief, Jean-Luc."
"But I do have a question. If the mind is everything, then how come the
Continuum was able to strip you of your powers? How come you couldn't
surmount that little problem?"
Q smiled, shaking his head, "It figures that you would ask me that,
Jean-Luc. I was hoping you'd let me off easy, let me make my big speech
and get away with it. The best answer I can give you is that, powerful as
I am, I haven't been able to convince myself that I'm stronger than the
combined power of the Continuum. And that makes me vulnerable--they could
destroy me if they saw fit. I'm sure there are other beings out there who
could make a convincing show of being more powerful than I believe I am,
as well."
Q continued, "I hate to return to a painful subject, but this incident
with your lovely Doctor C raises a problem."
"What?" asked Picard.
"Oh, I'm not going to just give it to you, Johnny. That would be too
easy. Think about what you just did back in Sick Bay."
Picard's brow furrowed. There was a long silence. "I asked you to bring
Beverly back to life," he said slowly and hesitatingly. "In fact, I
insisted on it. Your concern is that this might set a precedent."
"You're smart, my mortal friend. How much difference is there really
between your having my powers and your telling me what to do with my
powers? I know you wouldn't ask me to destroy an enemy of yours outright;
I could simply make your ship invulnerable, which I imagine would give any
attacker a profound motivation to negotiate. And in that situation I'm
extending my protection equally to your whole crew. But what happens the
next time one of them gets killed in the line of duty? And the time after
that? Or a crew member or family member of a crew member develops a fatal
illness? Believe me or not, Jean-Luc, I do use my powers judiciously. I
may select a mortal here or there whose life I intend to guarantee, but
when that mortal starts asking me to extend that protection to this
individual or that individual, eventually the impact on what you think of
as history is going to be pretty large. Where does it stop? I have a
hard time refusing you anything you ask. Are you prepared to wield the
power of life and death over your crew? Decide who lives and who dies?
What if I had been around when Jack Crusher died, for instance?"
Picard winced. Whispering, he said, "I would have asked you to do the
same thing. Of course I would. He was my best friend, regardless of what
I felt for Beverly at the time."
"I know, Jean-Luc. But what would the impact have been? And I don't just
mean for your relationship with Beverly. You're so damned noble you would
ask for his life back in a second even now without any regard for
yourself. But what about her? Would she be the same person she is now if
she didn't have to rely on herself all these years? What about young Mr.
Crusher and the incredible (for a human) evolutionary process he's going
through? Maybe Jack Crusher's untimely demise was a necessary sacrifice
to allow the three of you to develop the way you have, to make the
contributions you have made and are going to make in your lifetimes. What
if you had asked me to bring your Lieutenant Yar back in this timeline?
Would she have gone back to the past in the alternate one you stumbled
into? That kind of interference can have pretty hefty consequences. I
have far more ability to foresee the future than you do. I can decide to
preserve a life here or there because I can weigh the possible
consequences. If I do protect your ship, I can make adjustments if
necessary. You can't. I'm not trying to denigrate you, but you just
can't. But when you make that kind of request of me, and I have to turn
you down . . . "
"If you hadn't restored Beverly, I never would have forgiven you. Unfair
and unjust as that would be, I would never forgive you."
"Exactly."
"But if I hadn't demanded that you bring her back, I never would have
forgiven myself. I do see the position I'm putting you in, and I do see
that I'm taking on a power I'm not ready to wield, but honestly, the next
situation that arises, I don't know *what* I'll do. This is not exactly
an easy issue to resolve."
"No, and I don't have the answers for you. I just want you to think about
the questions. As your species evolves, and some members of it evolve
more quickly than others, you're going to have to wrestle with questions
like that. I just want you know when you asked me I wasn't giving you a
hard time gratuitously. But of more immediate concern to me, however, is
you, Picard. You honestly don't have a clue what you're capable of. My
telling you that the mind is everything and that reality is a function of
perception is meaningless. You have to discover that for yourself. And
to that end, allow me the indulgence of an experiment . . . "
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q.,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 13 (2/2)
Date: Fri, 25 Aug 1995 17:01:18 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 13, Part 2
"Q!!!" exclaimed Picard, but it was too late. His room went dark, utterly
pitch black. It fell completely silent. None of the ambient sounds of
the ship could be heard. As Picard's eyes began to adjust to the
darkness, he determined that he was in at the bottom of a narrow and deep
shaft, which had rungs leading up . . . to where? It was too dark for
Picard to see more than a few feet above him. After gingerly feeling the
slippery and smooth walls of the shaft, he paused. "All right, Q, what's
the point of this?" There was no reply.
There didn't seem to be anything else to do but to start climbing. The
rungs had to be there for a reason. Picard climbed . . . and climbed . .
.. and climbed . . . and climbed some more . . . and some more. He wasn't
worried about falling at first as he was an expert climber, but as he
climbed the shaft seemed to be lengthening out above him; after what
seemed like hours of climbing he was nowhere near anything that resembled
the top. Picard paused, trying to disregard the agony in his knees and
shoulders. The rungs were extremely narrow, allowing only the toe of his
boot to rest on them, which strained any number of muscles in his legs and
feet. After breathing deeply for several moments he resumed. The climb
was so numbing he almost forgot entirely about Q; his entire being was
focused on reaching the top. How he had gotten there in the first place
was an issue he was too tired to be concerned about.
After what felt like even more hours of climbing and pausing, climbing and
pausing, climbing and pausing, Picard stopped. "//What the hell am I
doing?//" he thought to himself. The muscles in his arms and legs were
trembling from the exertion, his legs were beginning to feel like
spaghetti, and he was drenched with sweat. Sweat had been pouring into
his eyes for some time now, which stung intensely, but he was afraid to
let go long enough to wipe them. Anyway it wouldn't have done any good;
his sleeves were soaked.
"//Wait. How did I get here? Q, damn it! Something about an
experiment. And here I am, the rat in the maze. I suppose if I ever do
get to the top there'll be a nice Brie waiting for me. But that's not the
point, is it? What was he saying? Something about the mind being
everything . . .// " At this point, his attention was distracted by the
sensation of both feet and calves cramping from holding this unnatural
position for so long. Picard gingerly wiped one hand at a time on his
pants, so they wouldn't slip on the rungs, then stretched out one leg at a
time, flexing his foot to stretch out the cramped muscles. Not trusting
his damp hands, he quickly resumed his spider-like crouch on the rungs and
returned to his musings.
"//The mind is everything, he said. Reality is a function of perception.
Good enough. So as long as I believe I'm in this godforsaken shaft, then
I'm stuck. I have to believe I'm back in my quarters, on my bed. But how
the hell do I do that?//" Picard closed his eyes, wincing slightly at the
stinging sensation, then began to concentrate, trying to visualize his
bedroom and himself in it. It wasn't easy. His trembling and aching
muscles made it hard to concentrate, and Picard realized that every inch
of his body was soaked except his throat, which was dry as sandpaper. He
reminded himself, however, that he had won the Starfleet Academy marathon,
the only freshman to have done so, no less. Aching muscles were a minor
concern and could be dismissed by a disciplined mind. Picard concentrated
harder on the image of his bedroom, trying to see himself in it, to make
the shaft melt away, leaving only a small part of his attention on his
cramped hands gripping the rungs.
Suddenly he heard a mocking voice in his head, "//You're getting closer,
Picard. I thought you'd *never* figure it out though. Apparently,
they'll let *anybody* command a starship, these days. This is your
reality now. It's out of my hands. But you haven't really convinced
yourself you're in your quarters and not in this shaft. Until you do,
you're stuck.//"
"//I'm trying, damn it!//" snapped Picard mentally.
"//A for effort, D for execution, so far//," returned the mocking voice.
"//You certainly don't act like you believe you're in your quarters.//"
The realization broke suddenly on Picard's mind. He knew he had to
believe he was in his room enough to let go of the rungs. But if he
didn't believe it, he knew with utter certainty he'd be dead meat at the
bottom of the shaft. Dead and mangled meat for that matter. He began to
repeat to himself, over and over, "I'm in my bedroom, I'm in my bedroom,"
then he had to laugh aloud at the the absurdity of the situation. He felt
like Dorothy, saying "There's no place like home." Interesting how
certain children's stories stood the test of time. He supposed that made
Q the Wizard, and the concept amused him even more. "I'm in my bedroom,"
he repeated to himself, still laughing, and finally let go of the the
rungs . . .
And opened his eyes . . .
And found himself back in his very own room, sitting on his very own bed,
still drenched in sweat and sore all over. Q was standing in front of
him, arms folded, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Congratulations, Mr.
Picard. You've passed the class," then in a harder tone, "just barely."
Picard laughed. "Q, your teaching style is worthy of several professors I
had at the academy. I believe we used a colloquial term to describe
them. I believe that term had seven letters and started with 'a.'"
"But you learned something, didn't you? Only if you weren't so dim, you
would have figured it out long before you worked yourself into such a
sweat. Ugh." Q waved his hand up and down in front of Picard, who was
instantly clean and dry, his muscles pain-free.
"I have one question, Q."
"Yeeesss?"
"Would you have let me fall?"
Q smiled and nodded, "Uh huh. Yup." His eyes locked on Picard's. "I
would have put you back together of course. It would have interesting,
all those little shattered bone fragments. You wouldn't have enjoyed
either the fall or the impact, however. But it would have been
educational. No pain, no gain, and all that."
"You really do remind me of some of my professors," remarked Picard.
"Yes, well, I may be that seven-letter epithet you're too delicate to call
me, but this wasn't just a game. The mind *is* everything, and someday
you'll be in a situation where that knowledge will serve you well as long
as you don't let your human limitations impede you."
Picard nodded. "I get the point, Q."
"Well, it certainly took you a while! Next time, I'm giving you a time
limit."
Q disappeared in a flash. In another flash, something appeared in
Picard's hands. It was a large round of French Brie. "What an asshole,"
muttered Picard to himself, but he was smiling.
* * *
//The young cadet strode through the halls of the astrophysics building at
Starfleet Academy, on his way to pick up the results of his final exam in
his advanced astrophysics class. The class had been much more interesting
than he had anticipated, and the instructor had had an impressive array of
fascinating facts and details about the universe at his fingertips. The
professor had also been very convivial, joining the cadet and his friends
for drinks after class and relating tales of his travels around the
galaxy. Several of the women had clearly had crushes on him, and the
cadet himself had to admit the professor was one of the most interesting
people he had ever met.//
//When the cadet knocked on his professor's door, the man swung his chair
around, smiled, and looked the young cadet up and down. "Ah, I suppose
you want to know how you did on the exam."//
//"Yes, sir."//
//"How do you think you did?"//
//"With all due respect, sir," said his pupil in a not particularly
respectful voice, "I hate it when professors do that."//
//"Why do you think we do it? Answer my question, young man."//
//"I think I, to use an old earth expression, kicked ass, sir."//
//"That would be an accurate assessment. In fact, this is the highest
score on an exam I've ever given. You'll go far, Cadet." The professor
handed the exam back to his student, asking, "I'm really quite impressed.
Buy you a drink?"//
//"Thanks, Professor. I never turn down the offer of a drink."//
//The professor turned off his computer, and the two men headed toward the
nearest watering hole. Over drinks, he queried his pupil about his future
plans. As they walked back through a deserted part of the campus grounds,
the professor said suddenly, "Now that you're no longer in my class, I
have a confession to make."//
//The cadet's eyes opened quite a bit wider.//
//The professor continued, "I've always taken a particular interest in
you, young man. And not an entirely professional one."//
//The cadet was somewhat disconcerted, but he was brash enough not to let
it show. "I see what you're getting at, Professor, but my interests don't
lie in that direction."//
//"Yes, I know. You have quite a reputation as a ladies' man. But you
also have a reputation as someone who will try just about anything. Why
limit yourself?" asked the professor, tipping his head slightly to one
side and smiling with raised eyebrows.//
//"Well, it's certainly something that it had never occurred to me to
try," said the cadet uncomfortably.//
//"Why, are you scared?" taunted the professor.//
//"I'm not scared of anything," retorted the cadet.//
//"Well then, prove it," said the professor, with another slight sideways
nod of his head. "I would hate to think my best student would be
intimidated by a new experience. My place is just over there. Care to
join me?"//
//The professor had taken precisely the correct approach to pique his
student's curiosity and to stir his natural arrogance as well. After a
few moments of hesitation, the cadet nodded with an assumed casualness,
"Sure, why not?"//
Jean-Luc Picard shot awake with a start. "//Q, God damn it, get in
here!//" he demanded.
At first he heard a disembodied mocking laughter, then Q materialized at
the foot of the bed, laughing so hard that tears were streaming from his
eyes. He could barely speak, but managed to observe, "Well, well, well,
the subconscious is a wondrous thing. Where's Sigmund Freud when you need
him? But I'm really disappointed. You woke up right before the best
part."
"Q!" snapped Picard, "Is this your idea of a joke? I don't appreciate
these nocturnal invasions. They're completely unethical. I'm furious
that you would do such a thing!"
"Moi? You wound me, Jean-Luc, with your unwarranted accusations. *I*
didn't plant that dream in your head."
"What are you saying, Q?"
"Oh, you are so dense when you first wake up, Picard. What I'm saying is
that your subconscious mind conjured up that scenario all by its perverse
little self. I was merely a spectator. I have to say, it gave me an idea
though."
"You leave my past alone!" raged Picard.
"I will admit," continued Q, "that on prior occasions I have been known to
plant dreams in your mind and watch the results, but I always made a point
of erasing your memory of them before you woke up. And I'm truly ashamed
to confess that I *never* came up with anything *nearly* that creative.
I'm in awe. I never realized your imagination was so sordid . . .
Johnny." Q dissolved in gales of laughter again.
"I don't believe you."
Q sat up suddenly. "Well, you'd better start, mon Capitaine, because I
may be unscrupulous in many respects, but *I don't lie to you*. Never
have, never will. But I have to say, while I'm deeply hurt by your
distrust, I'm infinitely grateful for the ammunition you've handed me.
I'm going to hold this one over you for *years*!"
Picard dropped his head into his hands, muttering "Merde, merde, merde."
Q moved over so he was sitting immediately next to Picard. As he traced
one finger up and down his victim's spine, he murmured into Picard's ear,
"You look like you could use a drink, *young man*."
Picard jumped. "Q! Please! I don't need this!"
"I'm sorry, Jean-Luc . . . well, no I'm not . . . I'm enjoying this
immensely, and it was an impulse I just couldn't resist."
"How unusual for you," retorted Picard, drily, having recovered some of
his composure. "Normally you're such a paragon of self-control."
"Well, as in all my endeavors, my intentions are thoroughly dishonorable.
But in this case, you have only yourself to blame."
Picard sighed. "You really mean it. You didn't plant that dream in my mind."
"Picard," exclaimed Q, "every time you attain a new abyss of obtuseness,
you manage to outdo yourself. For the last time, let me explain. I did
not provide you with that dream. I have to give credit where credit is
due. It was all your own doing. I have to say, it was *quite*
entertaining. You know, whenever you happen to be thinking about me, or
in this case, dreaming about me, I am instantly alerted. I can't help it;
I had to watch. For that particular invasion of your privacy, I
apologize, although I make no promises as to my future behavior."
"I don't know what to say," confessed Picard helplessly.
"Would you like me to give you *my* interpretation?"
"I'm guessing you're going to give it to me whether I want you to or not."
"True."
Picard sat back and folded his arms. "I'm listening, Q."
"I think the reason you dreamed about an encounter between me and your
younger self is that 'Johnny' would be far more inclined to experiment
than *you* would, Captain. I've *aroused* your curiosity if nothing
else. But I'm not interested in simply serving as a means to satisfy your
curiosity. That's not what I'm after."
"What *are* you after?"
"To tell you the truth, I don't exactly know, but this isn't a game to me,
Jean-Luc. You mean more to me than any other being I have ever
encountered, and I've been around for a long time."
Picard was moved by Q's apparent honesty and suddenly serious demeanor,
but he remained cautious. "I see. But why me? I still don't get it."
"Maybe I just love a man in a uniform."
Picard sighed and raised his eyebrows. "Q, if there exists another being
in this galaxy more infuriating than you, please warn me, so I can steer
clear of it. Why do I put up with you?"
"Because, Picard, the possibilities I offer you are endless. Good-night,
Johnny. *Sweet dreams.*"
"God forbid. Good-night, Q."
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 14 (1/2)
Date: Mon, 28 Aug 1995 17:23:21 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 343
Message-ID:
NNTP-Posting-Host: user55.lightside.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 14, Part 1
A few days later, the Enterprise was exploring a distant and unmapped
portion of the Alpha Quadrant, Starfleet having granted Picard permission
to avail himself of Q's powers in the pursuit of scientific knowledge. So
far the mission was uneventful. Various members of the science staff were
making charts and analyzing data, but without anyone noticing, they slowed
down more and more, focusing on their tasks, but at a very desultory
pace. The rest of the crew were feeling equally relaxed. Beverly Crusher
had lost interest in the experiment she was doing and had retired to her
office, playing idly with a paperweight on her desk. The children in
school were all unusually quiet and well-behaved, but their teacher didn't
seem to have the energy to lead them in any activities, so they all
watched movies on the classroom computer screen instead. Geordi suddenly
found the maintenance he was supervising in Engineering to be too much
trouble, and he gave his staff the day off. Q himself wasn't paying
attention to what was going on, as he was engaged in an involved
discussion with Guinan, comparing some of the experiences over the past
couple of centuries. In fact, both Q and Guinan had uncharacteristically
let their usual alertness lapse. Picard was reading in his ready room,
not terribly interested in the astronomical details his staff was
collecting. Now if there were interesting archeological sites to explore,
that would have been another matter.
On the bridge, even Worf was unusually relaxed; his stiff warrior demeanor
had become transformed into an almost meditative pose, as his attention
drifted away from his console. Only Data seemed unaffected by the mild
languor affecting the rest of the crew. Deanna seemed more listless than
the rest; she repeatedly yawned and announced her intention to take a
nap. The lull did not last long, however. Q suddenly sensed something.
He felt momentarily like his mind was being deeply probed, examined,
studied, scanned in a manner unlike any previous telepathic contact he had
ever had with his own species or others. It was not a pleasant
sensation. As soon as he tried to reach out mentally to determine its
source, he found himself thwarted. His mind encountered only a blank
wall. It was at this moment that Guinan became aware of a presence as
well, and she stared out of the Ten-Forward windows with alarm. "What is
it?" whispered Guinan. "There's something out there, but I can't get a
fix on it at all."
Q was temporarily paralyzed; he had a look of stricken fear Guinan had
never seen before, and it terrified her. When he had recovered his powers
of speech, he could only murmur, "It really exists. It's true. And it's
here. It exists, and it's here." Suddenly he turned to Guinan, and
exclaimed, "And you thought the Borg were dangerous. Come on!"
A moment later Q and Guinan had materialized on the bridge. Q quickly
assessed the passive state of the crew and murmured in the same awestruck
tone he had used in Ten-Forward, "It's already happening." Q forced
himself to shake loose the clouds gathering in his mind, strode into
Picard's ready room, and announced, "Captain, we're in more danger than
you can possibly imagine. No time to explain. I'm going to get us out of
here."
Picard slowly lifted his head from his book, paused as if wondering what
to reply, then said casually, "Umm, whatever you say, Q, make it so." Q
was already back on the bridge. As the increasingly drowsy and relaxed
bridge crew watched the viewscreen in numb amazement, Q threw one of his
trademark gridlike force fields around the object that was causing him
such concern, then sent the Enterprise whipping across the sector to what
he hoped would be a safe distance . . . for a while. Fortunately, Q had
gotten the Enterprise out of the range of whatever it was, and the ship's
population slowly returned to their usual selves, feeling like they were
struggling out from layers and layers of sleep. When the bridge crew
seemed sufficiently clear-headed, Q mentally proposed that Picard call a
meeting, insisting that Guinan be present as well.
When they had all convened in the observation lounge, Q looked around the
table, and asked, "Can you all pay attention now? This is serious."
Worf seemed embarrassed about his lapse in alertness and sat up ramrod
straight. Except for Deanna, who was still rubbing her eyes, the others
were pretty much back to normal. Picard asked, "Q, can you fill us in?
Are we out of danger?"
Q sighed, "For a little while. It may be able to block your sensors, but
I think I can keep monitoring for it myself. It's a long story, but since
the fate of your galaxy depends on it, I think I'll start at the
beginning. Even though my fellow Q and I have the capacity to travel
outside the galaxy, most of us have never taken that opportunity. On the
whole, we're a pretty lazy bunch. But many thousands of years ago, before
I became conscious, two members of the Continuum decided to go exploring
in the Andromeda galaxy. That was a time when we were more like you; we
had more drive, more desire for knowledge. Well, the two of them never
returned. Before the Continuum lost all contact with them, they managed
to send a rather incoherent message which was only received by a few
members of the Continuum who could receive thoughts from that distance.
The explorers warned of a being with telepathic powers that surpassed ours
to a tremendous degree. Since their message was so unclear, my fellow Q
didn't know what to make of it. It seemed too dangerous to investigate,
but no one was ever really sure whether the explorers were telling the
truth or simply projecting an elaborate story, so no one would expect them
back. They had been rebels, malcontents actually, and the Continuum
couldn't decide whether to take their messages seriously. It became more
of a legend as centuries and millenia passed. We didn't know whether this
being really existed. But what the explorers did convey was that its
telepathic capacities were unimaginably powerful. I could brainwash all
of you with a thought; I could get you to do whatever I wanted you to do,
to think whatever I wanted you to think, and to feel whatever I wanted you
to feel. Even Data would not be immune; as you've seen, I was able to
make him laugh. Fortunately for you, we in the Continuum have developed
enough of an ethical sense not to go around imposing mind control on
inferior species. We may experiment on you, but we don't take over your
minds. Well, this being--I don't know what to call it--apparently has no
such ethical restraints, and it, according to the reports of the
explorers, can apparently exert mental control even over us."
"To what purpose?" asked Troi.
"Good question. According to the reports received back from the
explorers, what they sensed from the entity was an overwhelming boredom
and hostility. I believe it's just looking for stimulation. The last
that was heard of the explorers they were unaccountably trying to destroy
each other, apparently having been brainwashed into doing so by the
entity. At the time, many in the Continuum didn't believe what they were
receiving because it seemed too implausible that there was a being out
there that could brainwash us. The Q have a tendency to be a bit
complacent. But I sensed an overwhelmingly powerful mind out there, more
powerful than my own, and believe me, that's not easy for me to admit. I
believe that our ship-wide lapse of alertness was the entity's way of
getting control over the ship. Once everyone had lost all volition, it
could amuse itself with all of us at its leisure."
"Can it be stopped?" demanded Riker.
"Well, I'm certainly going to try to find out. Give me a minute here." Q
closed his eyes, focusing mentally on the distant entity, his face a mask
of concentration. When he opened his eyes, he shook his head and exhaled
in a prolonged sigh. "It's blocking me somehow. I can get only minimal
information about it."
Guinan spoke up, "Maybe it noticed you in particular, when we first
encountered it. You're the most powerful of its intended victims."
"Yes, and I really appreciate how tactfully you phrased that, Woman! But
I think you're right. I sensed it probing me in Ten-Forward, and then it
was like a barrier came up. Unfortunately it probably has a lot more
information about *my* capacities than I do about its. At least from
here, I don't seem to be able to affect it in any way."
"What have you been able to find out?" asked Picard.
"So far, what I've been able to determine is that it exists within a kind
of shell. The shell encases a fluid medium, and the entity, which is
non-corporeal, seems to permeate the fluid. This is what it looks like."
At this Q caused a smooth, gray object, in form like a rounded oval, to
materialize above the conference table. "I can't tell you what it's
composed of, since the substance is unknown in this galaxy, but it's
structurally similar to neutronium."
"That's going to be a tough nut to crack," remarked La Forge.
"Yes," agreed Q, "and the entity can further assure its own safety by
brainwashing whoever it encounters into surrendering."
"You say it exists in some kind of fluid?" asked La Forge.
"Yes," said Q. "I'm just speculating here, but I imagine that it was
originally some kind of underwater life-form that evolved into the
non-corporeal being that it is now, and that whatever it is composed of
requires a fluid medium to sustain it."
"Does it have a power source?" asked Riker.
"Yes, itself. Or its mind actually. I don't know if I can make a
distinction; all it is is a mind."
"Can we communicate with it in any way?" asked Picard.
"Sure. It can read minds as well as take them over, but Federation-style
diplomacy is not going to work on this thing, Captain. We can ask it
politely if it will be so good as to return whence it came, but by the
time you complete the request, your mind isn't going to be your own any
more. I can try to talk to it, but this being is so utterly alien to us
that I can't see any basis for communication. Before the explorers
encountered this entity, they discovered entire populations murdered . . .
by each other. That could very well be the work of this creature."
Guinan spoke up. "I got a really bad feeling from that thing when Q and I
first sensed it. Captain, if we don't destroy it, it's going to destroy
us, and it won't be pretty."
"So what do you propose?" snapped Picard. "This is a life-form from
outside the galaxy. We can't simply go in and destroy it without trying
to make contact."
"No, and it's a moot point anyway, Captain," interjected Q. "Because by
the time you got close enough to fire your phasers, you would have all
surrendered the ship anyway. Listen, this is the last thing I ever
thought I'd admit in front of all of you, but I'm scared. Do you hear
what I'm saying? *I'm* scared of this thing."
If the gravity of the situation hadn't sunk in before, it had now.
Everyone around the conference table fell silent. Q turned to Picard and
spoke mentally, "//I need to talk to you alone, now.//" Picard nodded.
"Conference adjourned for now."
Data spoke up. "Q, if you could provide us with the composition of the
entity's shell, Geordi and I can begin work on modifying our weapons
systems. Then they will ready if we come up with a plan to circumvent the
entity's telepathic powers."
"Sure, it can't hurt." Q picked up a padd, glanced at it briefly, then
handed it to Data. "Everything I know about it is on here. Good luck."
As the staff dispersed, Q and Picard headed for the Captain's ready room.
"I know what you're going to tell me," said Picard as the doors slid
shut. "You're planning on going out there and trying to handle this
yourself . . . "
"Precisely. If I get close enough to overcome whatever it's blocking me
with, I may have a shred of a chance of either communicating with or
overcoming this thing. You don't. It's too dangerous for you and the
crew. But if I don't have all of you to worry about, I can at least
concentrate on trying to defeat it, or reason with it, or something." Q
stepped up to Picard and took his hands. "And I want you to stay here,
where you're safe for the time being. . ."
Picard interrupted, "Q, I can't let you do this."
"Yes you can," said Q softly, pressing the Captain's hands harder. "You
can't stop me, and you know that my existence is not worth the sacrifice
of every life on this ship, even if there was anything you could do. I'll
tell you what. If you come up with a feasible plan, feel free to join
me. Otherwise, I want you to stay safe, understand?"
Picard whispered, "Q . . . I . . . ," and his voice trailed off.
Q smiled, leaned forward suddenly and kissed Picard hard on the lips, then
said, "Je t'aime, mon Capitaine," and vanished with a grin and a wink.
Picard sighed and raised his eyebrows but couldn't help smiling to
himself.
He then straightened his shoulders, adjusted his uniform, and strode out
to the bridge, demanding, "Mr. Data, how long is it going to take us to
get back to where we encountered the entity?"
"We are two days' away from our previous coordinates, assuming maximum warp."
"Two days!" exclaimed Picard, "Damn him!" He then regained his composure,
saying, "Plot a course back to our previous coordinates. In the meantime
we need to come up with a plan." Picard sat back in the Captain's chair,
lost in thought. He had an intuition that Q was going to be needing his
help, but he had no idea how to provide it without risking his entire
crew.
* * *
For all of his good intentions, Q did not have a plan. He had never faced
anything so exponentially more powerful than himself, and his principal
motivation was keeping Picard and the Enterprise's crew safe. Q was a
creature of impulse, and despite all of knowledge and experience, he was
hardly a master strategist. His experience had been with dominating
*less*-powerful species; being in the position of the underdog was almost
entirely new to him, except for the humiliating helplessness he had felt
during his temporary demotion to human status. Even though Augusta had
temporarily put him out of commission, he knew all along (as did she) that
he would eventually gain the the upper hand and without too much
difficulty. But now he was really out of his league. If he'd had more
sense and less pride, he could have summoned the collective power of the
Continuum, but it simply didn't occur to him. He viewed himself as an
utterly self-sufficient being, and the idea of running home for help
because there was an incredibly mean bully on the schoolyard wouldn't have
entered his mind. As far as he was concerned, he was on his own.
Q approached the entity warily. It had remained where it was before,
although Q noted that it had managed to eliminate the forcefield he had
thrown around it. It seemed confident that its intended prey would return
and simply waited. Q materialized on a convenient asteroid. He began
probing the entity's mind as unobtrusively as he could and was relieved
that he was able to get a little more information. What he didn't figure
out, however, was why. The entity was unbelievably powerful within the
limits of its telepathic range. It had never yet met a victim it couldn't
brainwash. It was not physically invulnerable, however, despite the
density of its shell. While Q was at a distance, it had surrounded itself
with psychic energy barriers that Q's mind couldn't penetrate beyond the
most superficial level. Now that Q was within its range, it didn't bother
with such defenses; any adversary close enough to brainwash posed no
threat. Not even Q. As Q probed the entity's mind, at least the parts of
it he could access, what he discovered terrified him; not only was it an
incredibly powerful mind, but it was an incredibly powerful one-track
mind. The entity's mental energy was almost entirely focused on finding
victims to amuse itself with. Once it had tired of its most recent
victims and watched them kill each other off in a variety of horrendous
ways, it would move on, hunting for more. Right now the mind was alerted;
here was a victim that would be slightly more challenging than most. Q
was horrified; for a moment he felt as though he were looking at himself
in a mirror that both distorted and enlarged. Q did not kill for
amusement, but he realized that this creature's motivations for what it
did were very little different from his own. The boredom,
self-centeredness, and frustrated restlessness that he sensed seemed
terribly familiar, and the thought sickened him.
Constructive as this flash of self-knowledge was, it did not serve him
well now. He needed to concentrate on the problem at hand. Suddenly,
from the inmost recesses of his mind, Q sensed a powerful impulse to fetch
the Enterprise back to this location. The impulse was inexplicable, but
it felt like an irresistable compulsion. Q's mind was multi-layered and
infinitely complex; while he sensed the impulse to retrieve the
Enterprise, the equivalent of his conscious mind was thinking that this
didn't make any sense at all. After a few moments of internal debate, he
realized what was happening. Furious at being tampered with, Q tried to
launch a bolt of energy to destroy the creature. His action was halted
almost as soon as he had conceived it; he had never felt such a sensation
before, but it was as if the portion of his mind that could manipulate
matter and space and time was paralyzed. Q had hardly time to process his
sensation, when his mind was overcome by a blinding, pulsating light and
waves and waves of pain, the likes of which he had never imagined. The
entity was taking advantage of Q's assumed human form, and Q felt as
though every nerve ending was on fire. But the pain inside his mind was
even more intense, searing through every layer of his consciousness. The
torture lasted about a minute, then stopped. Q immediately intuited that
this was a punishment for his attempted attack. Although he was both
shaken and weakened, he mustered his energy and pulled himself together.
"//Well, back to the drawing board//," he managed to think to himself.
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 14 (2/2)
Date: Mon, 28 Aug 1995 17:31:42 -0800
Message-ID:
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 14, Part 2
His conscious mind managed to form the query, "//I don't suppose there's
any chance of you deciding to just bypass this galaxy and leave its
inhabitants alone, is there?//" The reply was instantaneous; long peals
of mocking laughter emanated from the alien entity's mind. "//No, I
didn't think so, but I thought I'd ask. So much for diplomacy//,"
concluded Q. The impulse to bring back the Enterprise had returned
stronger than ever. Q tried every telepathic block he could think of,
every possible way he had previously devised to keep his fellow Qs from
intruding on his privacy, but it was to no avail. He felt more and more
strongly that if he didn't retrieve the ship that he would lose his
sanity. Still he tried to resist, furious at his helplessness. He was
frozen, immobile, and the only thing he knew with any certainty was that
he would be released only to fetch back the Enterprise. A portion of Q's
mind still remained to him, and he was determined not to give in. He
channeled all the mental energy he had remain into erecting blocks, but he
felt more and more of his mind being encroached upon, and he was too
rattled to concentrate. He couldn't understand how *his* mind had been
invaded so completely. At the same time, the blinding light and the pain
returned, increasing exponentially as Q continued to resist. He felt
dizzy and nauseous, as daggers of pain stabbed deep into every layer of
his consciousness. The alien being was losing its patience. Q's
immensely powerful mind was no match for his enemy; he felt his mental
shields slipping. Soon he was conscious of only two things: the
sensation of impossible, unendurable pain and the conviction that if he
retrieved the Enterprise, the pain would stop. He could no longer
remember why he was trying so hard to resist.
* * *
On board the Enterprise, Picard was trying to calm himself enough to think
clearly. He sat in the Captain's chair, gazing at the viewscreen,
frenetically coming up with absurd plans and instantly dismissing them.
His one consolation was that he still felt the comfortable sensation of
his link with Q in his mind. Suddenly he sat up. Within that portion of
his mind allotted to the connection with Q, there was a wavering, an
indefinable shift in the sensation that had become so familiar. "//What?
What is it?//" he demanded to himself. The wavering sensation continued;
Picard felt as though his link with Q was slipping away from him. He
mentally called out "//Q? Q?? Q!!!//" For an instant the link ceased to
waver. Within his mind Picard heard an anguished but defiant howl,
"//*NO!!!!!*//" then a whisper, "//Jean-Luc?//" then . . . nothing.
Nothing at all. The link was snapped, and Picard felt utterly alone.
* * *
Picard's voice calling Q had come just in time. It was enough to remind
what shred of his identity had not been taken over why he should resist.
Q was overpowered, however, and he had only one defense mechanism
remaining. Mustering all of his determination and taking strength from
his summons from Picard, Q mentally exclaimed "//*NO!!!!!*//" and broke
his mind away from the alien entity. As blackness overcame him and he
collapsed, from the very core of his being emerged a whisper,
"//Jean-Luc?//" then darkness and silence were his universe. An
impenetrable darkness, an impenetrable silence enveloped him; he couldn't
see, couldn't hear, couldn't move. The darkness and silence suffused
every layer of his mind except for a pinprick of consciousness, an atom of
light in the darkness. That atom of consciousness barely remembered who
or what he was; the overwhelming sensation was darkness and silence.
* * *
Picard collapsed back in his chair, pale and stricken. Riker and Deanna
were immediately bending over him. "Captain?" asked Deanna. Picard
weakly raised one hand to motion them to back off a bit. He had to take a
moment to process the realization that burst upon him with a stark
clarity, the realization of how utterly essential Q was to him. He had
gotten so used to the sensation of Q's presence in his mind that he had
begun to take it for granted. With the connection snapped, he felt cut
off from a part of his own self. As if penetrating through a thick haze,
Deanna's voice began to register on his consciousness, "Captain, can you
hear me? Are you all right?"
He opened his eyes and murmured, "It's Q. Something happened." At this
moment the turbolift doors slid open, and Beverly Crusher rushed onto the
bridge. Picard hadn't heard Riker summoning her when he first collapsed.
"//Pull yourself together//," he thought to himself, "//Q needs you, and
the ship needs you. PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER! Or as Q would have it, GET A
GRIP!//"
Picard sat up in his chair, his hands firmly grasping the arm rests. "I'm
all right, Beverly. I just had a bit of a shock." The others looked at
him questioningly. "Ever since Q has been on board, he has maintained a
kind of telepathic link with my mind. I can't exactly describe the
sensation, but over time I've gotten more and more conscious of it. For
instance, I always just seem to know where he is. Well, something
happened to him out there, and . . ." his voice faltered a moment and
Crusher put her hand on his shoulder, "I don't sense him now. Something's
seriously wrong." Crusher still looked concerned. "There's nothing wrong
with me physically, Doctor," said Picard with a weak smile, reaching up to
grasp her hand for a moment. He sat up straighter, went through the quick
ritual of straightening his shoulders and uniform, then stood up, saying
in a firm voice, "Mr. Data, continue on course. Number One, you have the
bridge. I need to think." Then he strode toward his ready room.
"Are you sure he's all right?" Riker asked Deanna.
"Yes, he was utterly terrified for a moment there, but now he's just
determined."
* * *
Buried under layers and layers of impenetrable darkness and silence, a
small core of Q's mind was trying to make sense of his situation. He
couldn't move or hear or see, but he could think to himself, albeit
incoherently. He knew there was something he was trying to grasp onto, to
remember, some reason he didn't want to just let the darkness wash over
him completely. There was some reason to keep holding it at bay. It was
a name, that was it. "//A name, a name. Somebody's name. Very
important. Q! That's it! Q! No, idiot, that's my name. There's
somebody else, somebody who can help me out of here.//" The realization
finally came to him, "//Jean-Luc! Need Jean-Luc. Oh, damn it! I was
supposed to be helping *him*.//" This much thinking was wearing him out,
and Q's essence, his very innermost mind, fell silent. Hours, maybe days
later, he had recovered a complete memory of the events leading up to his
blacking out, but he remained deaf, blind, and paralyzed. He figured the
entity had given him up for dead, which was just as well. Occasionally,
just to prove to himself that he wasn't dead, that inner core of
consciousness would try to emerge, to push the layers of darkness and
silence away. But every effort made the darkness and silence close in
even more. Finally, he gave up and decided to wait. He knew what he was
waiting for, and that was enough. He was waiting for Jean-Luc.
* * *
After a couple of hours, Picard walked out of his ready room. The signs
of his earlier terror and weakness had evaporated. He was icily
determined. "Conference, five minutes," he ordered, then went to the
observation lounge to await his senior officers. When they had all
gathered, he spoke.
"Mr. Data, I want the Enterprise to stop and hold position 6 billion
kilometers away from the last known location of the entity. Mr. La Forge,
I want you to modify a Type 6 shuttlecraft with as much phaser power as
you can give me. I want a narrow beam preprogrammed to have maximum
effect on a neutronium-like substance. In fact, I want as much of the
firing sequence and targeting as possible to be programmed into the
shuttle's computers."
"Yes, sir. You've got it."
"Captain," said Riker warily, you're not planning on going out there . . . "
"Yes, I am, Number One. And you are going to stay at the coordinates I've
specified and keep this crew safe. Those are your orders."
"Captain . . ."
"Don't 'Captain' me, Number One. And if you try to follow me, if you
order this ship any closer to that entity, against my orders, I will
personally court-martial your tail into a desk job so fast you won't know
what hit you. And if you sense any change in the behavior of the crew, or
if Guinan has any sense of that creature returning, I want you to get this
ship to safety. Understood?"
"Yes, sir, but, with all due respect, what makes you think you're going to
be able to withstand the entity's telepathic powers? It overwhelmed *Q*."
Picard's eyes and voice were equally steely. "I'll tell you, Number One.
I've had my mind raped too many times, first by the Borg, and second by
Gul Madred." He spoke slowly and deliberately, emphasizing each word:
"*I'm not going to let that happen again.*" He continued, more calmly, "Q
may be omnipotent, but he hasn't had my experiences. He's never faced
anything more powerful than himself. I have, and this time my mind is
going to remain my own. I don't know how I know that, but I do."
"Captain, are you planning on going alone?" asked Troi, alarmed.
"No, I'm not." He turned to Data, his voice suddenly gentler. "Mr. Data,
what I'm about to ask of you is repugnant to me, and this is by no means
an order. You may refuse this assignment."
"What is it, Captain?" asked the android.
Picard paused and sighed. "I would like Geordi to disable as much of your
more 'human' programming as possible, to block the pathways in your
positronic brain that you have developed over the past several years.
Essentially, I'm asking you to allow yourself to be programmed to be as
machine-like as possible . . . I'm sorry, Mr. Data, it pains me to ask
this of you, and I mean you no disrespect . . . but I believe this may
render you less vulnerable to the entity's telepathic abilities. If I do
succumb to it, you will have irrevocable orders programmed into you to
destroy it, no matter what I may try to order you to do under its
influence. In fact, I would like to have you programmed to disable *me* if
necessary if I try to stop you."
"Understood, Captain. I accept the mission."
"Data," said Picard, "You might want to take some time to think about
this. I'm very uncomfortable about asking you to allow yourself to be
dehumanized like this."
The rest of the table was silent, almost holding their breaths. Data
looked right at Picard, "Captain, my duty is to protect the lives of my
crewmates. I will fulfill that duty even if the means are distasteful.
It should not be difficult for me to determine which parts of my
programming need to be disabled and to map out for Geordi what he will
need to do to restore them. And, Captain, you have to realize that I
consider Q to be my friend. He needs help, and I am more than willing to
provide it."
Picard was moved. He blinked a few times and pressed his lips together.
"Mr. Data," he said quietly, "you're one of the finest persons I know."
He looked around the table, then said sharply, "Adjourned."
* * *
How much time had passed? Q had no way of knowing. He knew that he was
beginning to feel excruciatingly bored, but he was afraid to press against
the edges of the darkness and silence; he didn't want to make things
worse. He was also beginning to feel unbearably lonely, a sense of
desolation that was compounded by his utter helplessness. The being who
had the capacity to rearrange the spatial and temporal structure of the
universe could not open his eyes or lift a finger. The remnant of mental
energy he had remaining could only keep the darkness and silence from
pressing even closer, but he was utterly incapable of directing any mental
energy outside of the one inner recess of his mind that was conscious.
* * *
While Geordi worked on the shuttlecraft, Picard went to talk to Guinan.
"Is there anything you can tell me that might help?" he asked.
"I know as much about this creature as you do, Captain. There *is*
something, though . . ."
"What?"
"When it first began taking over our minds, we were all completely unaware
that anything was happening. The lapse in alertness and lethargy I was
feeling didn't seem unnatural at all. Quite the opposite. See, if Q were
brainwash you, say, into falling in love with him, you might readily act
precisely as he wanted you to. You would give up your position or do
anything he saw fit. But it wouldn't *feel* right; enough of your
subconscious mind would remain yours, and there would always be a part of
you that would try to resist, just as you did when you were almost
assimilated by the Borg. Jean-Luc Picard was still in there. This
creature's methods seem much more refined, however, and that is why I find
it so terrifying. The entity does not appear to take over minds from
without, but rather, it seems to be able to disguise its influence as
something arising from within your own subconscious mind. It's not an
external threat you have to resist, but an internal one."
"I understand, I think. Thank-you, Guinan. I think it will help me."
"My pleasure, Captain. And Captain?"
"Yes."
"I'm terribly worried about Q. I actually miss the rascal."
"I know. I'm going to find him, you can count on it. Whether we can help
him or not remains to be seen, but I'm going to find out what happened to
him."
* * *
La Forge had completed the modifications to the shuttlecraft and,
reluctantly, was beginning to make the necessary alterations to Data's
programming. Picard forced himself to be present, but he felt sickened
that he had asked this of one of his officers, a person, damn it, that he
considered a friend. Beverly sensed Picard's discomfort and walked over
to stand next to him, as Geordi neatly peeled back portions of Data's
scalp to reveal the circuitry underneath. Picard winced slightly. "I'm
sorry, Mr. Data, but I never get used to that."
The Doctor took Picard's hand, and he held it tight in return, as Data
calmly replied, "Your reaction does not offend me, Captain. You would not
wish to witness the Doctor performing brain surgery on a human either. I
do not share human squeamishness, but it does not bother me." Picard
nodded.
As Geordi deftly executed the modifications that Data had mapped out for
him, the android began to look less human, more robotic. Data had taught
himself to imitate a variety of human behaviors, such as blinking, in
order to fit in better among the crew, and his features had developed more
mobility and his voice more expression over the years he had served on
board the Enterprise. Now his face grew more rigid and his voice more
monotonous. He sat completely still, not making any unnecessary motions.
"//Merde!//" thought Picard to himself, "//If a machine like Data can
develop sentience and human values, why are there so many thoroughly evil
forces out there? This entity makes Q, even at our first encounter, a boy
scout by comparison. We can explore all we want, increase our
technological abilities all we want, even develop our ethical capacities
and our tolerance for differences all we want, but there will always be
threats out there that will force us to come down to their level, to meet
violence with violence. All our progress and sophistication has not given
us an ability to reach an understanding with them. We simply have to
answer their savagery with savagery of our own.//"
"What are you musing about?" asked Beverly, still holding Picard's hand.
"Oh, the nature of evil, cheerful subjects like that. Here's this
life-form, from outside the galaxy no less, and I have to go out there and
try to destroy it so it doesn't destroy us. I have to try to blow it to
pieces so it doesn't take over our minds and get us to tear each other to
pieces. It's times like these that make me rather discouraged about the
nature of progress."
"There's a lot of good out there too, even in unexpected places. Look at
Q. After all the suffering he caused for centuries, he opposed his own
species to give humankind a chance. He changed. And he changed by virtue
of his contact with you, Jean-Luc. If all we were doing out here was
defending ourselves against violent threats, then I would feel
discouraged. But we, you in particular, have done a lot of good."
Picard thought with a sudden pang, "//But I almost committed an act as
evil as any I've ever witnessed. God help me, but Q is right--we do have
a long way to go. I only hope I have the opportunity to concede that
point to him.//" He nodded at Beverly and smiled wanly.
Then Riker's voice came over his comm badge, "Riker to Captain Picard. We
have reached the coordinates you specified."
"Acknowledged," replied Picard, "Full stop."
"I'm done, Captain," said Geordi. "Try to get him back in one piece;
it'll be a lot easier to restore him to his old self."
"Have you programmed the necessary orders regarding destroying the
entity? That is, to override anything I might say or do once we're in the
shuttle."
"I've taken care of it, Captain. Data will execute his orders; he doesn't
have much decision-making capacity left to question them."
Picard sighed heavily. "Thank you, Mr. La Forge. I appreciate your
cooperation with such a distasteful task. I hope you will be able to
reverse it as soon as possible. Mr. Data, meet me in the main shuttlebay
in ten minutes."
"Yes, Captain," replied Data in an unnatural, almost robotic tone.
Picard cringed slightly when Data and La Forge walked out of Sick Bay.
Data's movements were stiff and angular. He had the capacity to mimic
human movements, but he did not have any motivation to do so. Picard
turned to Beverly, smiling. "Well, Doctor, I have a mission to fulfill.
I'd best get started on it." He took both her hands and pressed them
lightly.
Beverly was about to turn away, then she whispered, trying to keep the
fear out of her voice, "Jean-Luc, tell me you're going to come back
safely."
"I'm going to do whatever it takes, OK?" They embraced, Beverly blinking
tears out of her eyes; then Picard marched out of Sick Bay. He paused
briefly at his quarters, stopping to take out the flower Q had given him
from their hiking expedition. He watched it for a moment, turning it over
in his hand, allowing himself a brief pang of terror for Q, which he then
shoved back into the back of his mind, as he replaced the flower in its
drawer. The loss of the connection between them continued to wrench him
even if he wasn't showing it. There was the continuous sense of low-level
panic in the back of his mind, the kind one feels after experiencing a
tremendous loss, the fear that one cannot continue to function without
whatever or whoever it was. It was a feeling that could have quickly
overwhelmed him, but Picard was nothing if not disciplined. Allowing
himself to experience a certain degree of fear was good; the tension would
keep him at a high pitch of alertness. But otherwise this particular
panic had to be mostly repressed, and replaced by grim resolution. It was
time to turn from his fears for Q to his mission. Until the entity was
eliminated, Q's safety had to be a secondary concern.
This was a principal difference between Q and Picard's tactics and goals.
Q hadn't been thinking about his own safety or that of the rest of the
galaxy, for that matter; he had simply impulsively concluded it was his
job to protect Picard and his crew. His fear of what the entity could do
to his protegé and his usual emotional volatility did *not* leave him in
the optimum condition to face such an overwhelming telepathic threat.
Picard, however, had a good deal of experience in controlling his emotions
and in putting personal considerations in the back of his mind, so he
could concentrate on the task at hand. He had never entirely forgiven
himself for not having had the strength to resist the Borg, and the
recollection of his experience under Cardassian torture never flashed on
his mind without a searing wave of nausea and shame passing through him.
Here was a chance for redemption, and he intended to make the most of it.
He was almost grateful, in a slightly perverse way, to have to act without
Q's assistance, although he would certainly have wished for different
circumstances as the cause of Q's absence.
When he got to the main shuttlebay, La Forge, Riker, and Guinan were
waiting. Geordi entered the shuttlecraft and went over the controls for
the modified weapons with Picard. "You won't be able to sustain fire for
very long, Captain; the shuttle just doesn't have enough power. I've
preprogrammed a very narrow, focused beam. If you can just crack that
thing's shell, it should lose fluid rather quickly, and if we're lucky,
that should do the trick. I also used the information Q gave us to
recalibrate the sensors. You should be able to detect the entity's
shell."
"Thank you, Mr. La Forge."
"Good luck, Captain."
Geordi paused to say good luck to Data, who merely looked puzzled and
remarked, "If you wish me to calculate the statistical probability for
success of this mission . . ."
"No, I don't," said Picard hastily. "Let's get going." Guinan went up to
him and quickly pressed his hand, and Riker also wished him luck. "I
imagine I'll need it," remarked Picard drily as he and Data entered the
shuttlecraft.
As the others left the shuttlebay, Riker turned to Guinan. "Guinan, if
you sense anything of that entity approaching, I want you to let me know
immediately, so I can get us out of here."
"Will do, Commander. At least now I know what I'm looking for."
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 15 (1/1)
Date: Tue, 29 Aug 1995 16:07:56 -0800
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 510
Message-ID:
NNTP-Posting-Host: user40.lightside.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 18 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 15
Data and Picard rode along in silence. Data no longer had his usual
inclination to converse, and Picard was grimly lost in thought.
"Mr. Data," said Picard as they approached closer to their destination,
"if you feel your mind being influenced in any way, or if I do anything to
prevent you from firing, I want you to fire on the entity immediately when
we get within range. If possible, I would like to find out what I can
about it, first, but I don't want to take any chances."
"Acknowledged, Captain."
As they approached, but long before they were within the shuttle's firing
range, Picard began to began to feel an urgent compulsion to summons the
Enterprise and to surrender the shuttle. The entity was impatient for
more prey and was in no mood for delicacy and discretion. Instead it
immediately assaulted Picard with its demands as soon as the shuttle was
within its telepathic range. It felt to Picard as if he had received a
sudden inspiration, an irrestistable brainstorm, and it was an idea that
had to be acted on immediately. But he was prepared and instantly
recognized what was happening. He remembered what Guinan had said and
tried to forget the entity altogether. Instead, he struggled to regain
control of his own subconscious mind, to impose discipline upon its
wayward impulses. The pressure to surrender grew stronger, however; he
was feeling more and more convinced that everything would just be all
right if he surrendered the shuttle and ordered the Enterprise to this
location. He noticed, to his relief, that Data seemed unaffected. Picard
was glad to have Data as a backup, but he was so utterly furious at this
violation of his mind that he was determined to take out this enemy
himself.
"How . . . long . . . before . . . we . . . get . . . within . . . firing
.. . . range?" Picard managed, barely, to ask. He couldn't afford to take
too much attention away from the wrestling match within his own mind.
"Six minutes, 47 seconds, sir."
"Damn!"
Data turned to look at Picard. "Are you in need of assistance, sir?"
"No . . . not . . . yet." Picard then fell silent. He had work to do.
He kept reminding himself what Q had told him one night in his quarters,
and he repeated it to himself like a mantra, "//The mind is everything.
The mind is everything. The mind is everything.//" The mantra
temporarily succeeded. Picard blocked out all thoughts of the entity and
of his fury at this mental rape. Instead he concentrated entirely on
forcing down the impulses arising from his subconscious. As the seconds
ticked agonizingly by, Picard was achieving a level of mental discipline
he couldn't have imagined himself possessing. He believed with utter
conviction that the mind *was* everything, and he could do whatever he
wanted. As the pressure to surrender increased from within his inner
mind, Picard increased the pressure his conscious mind was exerting in
return. He imagined a set of wide doors, like those of the shuttlebay,
slowly closing, cutting off the part of his mind that had turned against
him. It wasn't easy, however. His subconscious mind had been taken over
and fiercely resisted Picard's conscious effort to cut it off. Picard's
eyes were squeezed shut, his jaws were locked together, his hands were
ferociously gripping the arms of his seat, and every muscle in his back
and shoulders was ridged and knotted from the stress. The struggle was
intense, but Picard had mustered an awesome level of concentration. With
a huge effort he pushed those mental doors shut, and his mind was his own
again.
The entity paused. It had never encountered this kind of resistance; its
victims had never before figured out in time that it was their own minds
they had to resist, not an external threat. The entity was so skilled at
disguising its telepathic control as an irresistable subconscious impulse,
that it could not have imagined a victim with sufficient determination and
discipline to resist. Never had its victims ever been so prepared before
encountering it. Usually it overwhelmed its victims before they had any
clue what was happening, but Q had recognized the threat in time to allow
the Enterprise to escape. Victims such as Q might pose more of a
challenge, but they could be controlled with pain if they did not
immediately submit to the entity's telepathic influence.
"Dropping out of warp, now," reported Data. "We will be within firing
range in thirty seconds."
But as soon as the shuttle dropped out of warp, it began rocking
violently. "What the hell?" demanded Picard.
"The entity is emitting an invisible energy pulse," replied Data as his
hands, with lightning speed, continuously adjusted the controls. "It
apparently has telekinetic powers as well as telepathic ones."
"Wonderful, just wonderful," muttered Picard as the shuttle continued to
shudder and lurch.
"I do not see what could be considered wonderful . . ."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Data. Just a figure of speech."
"We are now within firing range, Sir. I believe I can stabilize the
shuttle long enough to permit accurate firing."
Picard was exhausted, and his head was throbbing. "I'd appreciate that.
On screen, Mr. Data." The entity appeared, hovering before them.
"Phasers are locked on, sir," noted Data.
"If you would be so kind as to allow me to do the honors, Mr. Data," said
Picard and fired. The beam washed right over the entity's shell. While
the shuttle rocked again from a massive energy pulse, Data's hands were a
blur over the controls, his eyes flickering at an unnatural and inhuman
rate. A moment later Picard felt his head explode with a searing,
blinding, excruciating pain. This was too much, really. His mind flashed
back, as it often did in moments of absolute physical exhaustion or pain,
to the Starfleet Academy marathon he had won as a freshman. Was it around
32, 33 kilometers when he felt as though he had hit the wall? His lungs
were exploding, and his legs somehow were attached to invisible lead
weights. It certainly would not have been humiliating to lose. No
freshman had ever won. But Picard had made up his mind. He managed to
break through his pain and exhaustion, and with a burst of determination,
he passed the upper-classmen in front of him on the final hill and sailed
into the finish line. He tried to convince himself that the torture the
entity was inflicting on him was no different than that he had experienced
in the marathon. At the same time, he was utterly furious at being
assaulted in this brutal and unconscionable fashion.
"NO DAMN IT!" exclaimed Picard, "MY MIND IS MY OWN!" He slammed his
mental doors on the pain much more quickly than he had been able to block
the entity's earlier demands. The technique was wonderfully effective; he
only wished he had figured it out before his encounter with a Cardassian
inquisitor, but he realized he probably could not have done so without
having had that previous experience to motivate him and give him focus.
Also, his extensive contact with Q's mind had increased his mental
capabilities as well. Once he became aware of the link with Q in his
mind, Picard had become more adept at understanding and recognizing the
interactions between different parts of his mind and controlling them.
"Sir," said Data tonelessly. "The entity's shell is thinner at the
rounded part of the oval. The phasers may be more effective there."
"Much obliged, Mr. Data." Picard directed Data to pilot the shuttlecraft
to a point directly over the entity, and Data's hands flew over the
controls as he continuously adjusted the thrusters to stabilize the
shuttle. Picard felt a wave of pain battering his mental doors, but he
refused to succumb to it, noting with relief that Data remained
unaffected. Picard was a study in unrelenting, concentrated fury, and he
punched the controls with more than usual force to fire the phasers. The
thin beam shot out from the shuttle's phaser emitters. At first it had no
effect, washing over the smooth shell as it had before. Picard's eyes
narrowed, his face a mask of concentration, as if he was trying to lend
power to the phasers with his mind. He envisioned the pencil-thin beam
drilling through the shell, forcing open a jagged crack, and then an
explosion as the entity's fluid medium boiled out into space. Later,
looking back, he would be shocked at his own cruelty, but he wanted to
witness this being's suffering. With a kind of grim, sadistic glee,
Picard watched events unfold just as he had imagined. As the fluid began
boiling out of the cracked shell, the entire shell exploded. Picard
cautiously relaxed the mental control he had been exerting on his
subconscious mind, and he felt an overwhelming sensation of terror and
surprise which was just as quickly extinguished as the entity expired, its
sustaining fluid medium dispersed into the vacuum of space.
"Commendable firing, sir," remarked the android in the same numb tone.
"Thank you, Mr. Data," said Picard as he slumped back in his chair. He
felt utterly drained, but he couldn't relax yet. "We have another job to
do. Is there any way we can recalibrate our sensors to look for Q?"
"He does not give off life signs," replied Data. "I take it that you
still do not sense any contact with him."
"No," said Picard, shaking his head wearily. "Nothing."
"I am plotting a search pattern now, but our sensors will not have an
effect. Can you recall precisely when you began to feel the entity's
influence? That will provide more precise parameters for my search."
"It was a few minutes before I asked you how far we were until we reached
firing range."
"Search pattern programmed, sir."
"Engage."
The shuttle began following the course Data had programmed. Picard had
recovered his alertness; one mission having been accomplished, he allowed
the search for Q to assume the full urgency he felt. He strained his eyes
gazing out of the shuttle's windows, but he couldn't see anything that
would indicate to him Q's location. "//Now I wish he'd kept wearing a
Starfleet uniform//," thought Picard to himself, "//then at least he'd
have a communicator.//" The idea of assigning a communicator to a
visiting omnipotent being seemed absurd on the surface; Picard was sure Q
had never imagined that he would be needing Picard to come to *his*
rescue.
After a little more than two hours Data announced, "Sensors are detecting
a large object, most likely an asteroid, ahead."
"On screen, Mr. Data."
Before them hung a ball of rock, approximately three miles in diameter.
"Take us there," demanded Picard. Data piloted the shuttle into orbit
around the asteroid. "There!" exclaimed Picard. Lying on the surface of
the asteroid, face down and motionless, was Q. Data expertly landed the
shuttle near Q's immobile form, while Picard pulled out the EVA garments
that would be necessary on the airless, gravity-less asteroid. He and
Data rapidly suited up, then exited the shuttle's hatch. Picard rolled
Q's body over. There was no response. He called, "Q? Q? It's
Jean-Luc." Still no response. Picard turned to Data, "Let's get him out
of here." Data hoisted Q's limp form effortlessly, and they returned to
shuttle. Picard was in a hurry, only bothering to yank off his helmet
before lifting the shuttle off. Data examined Q with a tricorder, but
could get no readings. That, in itself, was not unusual. Q's utter
motionlessness was, however. After Data had removed the EVA suit, he took
over the controls so Picard could remove his as well, and they rode in
silence back to the Enterprise.
(Buried under layers of darkness and silence, the small portion of
consciousness remaining to Q was totally unaware of his rescue. He
remained blind, deaf, and paralyzed, and he could not register the
sensation of being lifted up and placed on board the shuttlecraft. He
remained in his tiny private universe, waiting for some light or sound to
penetrate through to him.)
After the shuttle had returned to the ship and Q had been taken to sick
bay, Picard demanded, "Beverly, is there anything you can do?"
She was scanning her patient and shook her head slowly. "Jean-Luc, he's
in human form, but I can't get any readings from him. I can't even begin
to scan his neural activity; we have no instruments that can even begin to
read what's going on in his brain. I don't think he's dead, whatever that
means for his species, because I don't see how he could maintain a
corporeal form if he were. I don't know if he even can be killed. All I
can surmise is that he's suffered some sort of shock to his system and has
shut himself down in some fashion."
Picard was frustrated, and his anxiety was readily apparent. Beverly
found herself torn between an objective concern for a patient and a
mounting jealousy. She was realizing much more concretely than she ever
had before how much Q meant to Picard. Battling down her jealous
impulses, she said gently, "I'm sorry, Jean-Luc. There's nothing that I
can do. Believe me, I would if I could."
Picard smiled grimly, raised Beverly's hand to his lips, and said,
"Beverly, I'm sorry. I certainly didn't anticipate this. I know I care
for you deeply, in fact, I love you, and I don't understand exactly what I
feel for him, but I have to take care of him right now. Somehow, in a way
I don't entirely understand, he's become a part of me, an essential part.
There's some kind of bond between us, and if nothing else, he's a friend
who has more than earned any assistance I can render." He paused, then
murmured, "I didn't realize until he was cut off from me just how
terrified I am of losing him."
"I know," said the doctor softly, "I know." They stood holding hands for
a moment, and Beverly kissed Picard's forehead. "Go take care of your
patient Jean-Luc. You can probably do more for him than I can."
Picard then ordered, "I want him taken to my quarters."
After the orderlies had carried Q's motionless body to Picard's quarters
and deposited it on the bed, Picard sat down next to him, took one of Q's
hands in his own and with his other hand gently stroked the entity's still
forehead and hair. Picard closed his eyes trying to penetrate Q's mind;
he could feel his own mind reaching out, but it was met by a wall of
silence. "//Damn it, Q! Can't you tell me what I'm supposed to do? I
don't know how to handle this!//" Picard then got the idea of trying to
summon another Q, who would presumably know what to do. The Captain had
not acquired telepathic powers that he could employ with anyone but Q, but
he had begun to project in his silent conversations with Q; he was not
simply passively receiving messages Q sent or responding in his own mind
for Q to read. Although he was aware that he was beginning to be able to
communicate with Q more actively, he didn't understand how the process
worked and assumed that if he had attained any telepathic ability, it was
simply by virtue of the ever-strengthening link between the two men.
Picard had developed a continuous awareness of Q's presence within his
mind; regardless of where the entity was, he still felt a connection
between them. But not now. Q, although lying in front of him, was no
longer inside his head; the connection was still severed, and Picard
continued to feel an aching void, a palpable absence in that portion of
his mind alotted to Q.
He felt increasingly shaken, "//I don't know how to do this. But I have
to try.//" Picard forced himself to be calm and concentrate. Summoning
Q's colleague certainly couldn't be any harder than resisting the being he
had recently defeated. He disengaged his hand from Q's, put his head in
his hands and focused as clearly as he could on his visual memory of Q's
colleague who had delivered the Continuum's response to Q's ultimatum. As
he concentrated, Picard became aware that his mental image of the second Q
was growing sharper and sharper. He poured all of his concentration into
the message, "//Q NEEDS YOUR HELP.//" For several minutes, Picard sat
absolutely still, eyes closed, head in hands, repeating the message,
mantra-like, to the visual image of the second Q in his head. His
concentration was suddenly broken by a burst of light. He looked up with
relief as a male figure materialized in the room.
"How did you do that Captain? I wasn't aware you were telepathic."
"Neither was I. But fear focuses the mind very effectively. Can you do
anything about him?"
The newcomer turned his attention to Q. "What happened?"
Picard filled him in on recent events.
"Captain, I knew your species had some extraordinary potential, but you've
certainly surpassed our expectations. Congratulations."
"Well, I don't feel like celebrating at the moment," said Picard
anxiously, "Normally, I can sense him . . . inside my mind, but there's
nothing there. Can anything be done?"
The newcomer went over to the bed, took both of Q's hands in his, and
began probing deeply into Q's mind. After several moments, he spoke,
"It's as I suspected. It's rare when we face a force more powerful than
ourselves or a shock we can't handle. When it happens, however, we
essentially expend every iota of mental energy we have in self-defense. I
suspect he shut himself down to prevent the alien entity from gaining
power over him. Basically, he's been completely drained. He's not
capable for now of lifting a finger, he probably can't see or hear
anything, and he doesn't have it in him to sustain his telepathic link
with you. He's still in there, in a kind of stasis, and his mental
energies have to regenerate. It's a slow process I'm afraid. All you can
do for him is keep him still and quiet and keep trying to reestablish that
connection with him. You're the one he's closest to, right?" Picard
nodded, and the entity continued, "It's as if he's locked away under
layers and layers of unconsciousness, something like what you would call a
coma, except that there's nothing physically wrong. We don't sleep, and
it's not a state we have much experience with, since it happens so rarely,
and every Q who does experience it has to find his own way out. I would
help him, of course, if I could, but you can do much more for him than I
can. His mind will be attuned to recognizing you before anyone else. You
just have to keep trying to reach out to him, or rather into him, and if
you can establish a connection, you may be able to give him the boost of
energy he needs to start his own regenerative process. If that happens
his own mental energies, abilities, and powers will slowly start to be
restored. Then, the difficult part will be to prevent him from exerting
himself too much before he's ready and wearing himself out again. If he
exerts himself too much, he could make things worse." The entity smiled
wryly, "I imagine he would be a hell of a patient."
Picard felt fear building throughout this exposition, noting worriedly,
"It's not as though I have any experience using telepathy. Summoning you
was a first for me."
The second Q smiled again, remarking, "Well, Captain, you've shown a
remarkable capacity for being a fast learner. Time to put that to work.
Listen, Q has never been a really happy camper among the Continuum. I
suspect if anything could give him a reason to live, *you*'re it. He
needs you to give him a motivation to recover and to guide him back out."
Picard swallowed hard, saying, "I certainly wish you were showing a little
more conviction that he *is* going to recover.
"I'm sorry, Captain. I wish I could, but in cases like this, we just
don't know. It's a wonder that you were able to summon me at all, and
it's even more of a wonder you survived your encounter with that creature,
so it's very likely you have it in you to get through to him." The entity
got up suddenly and began to pace, adding, "It's his damn desire for
privacy. He's locked us all out ever since he came here; I could have
helped him earlier if I'd known what was happening. But I think you're
the only one who can help him now, Captain, and it's going to take a lot
of effort and concentration. Good luck. Oh, by the way, would you like
me to return you to Federation space?"
"Yes, actually."
"Consider it done. I'll check back in a couple of days."
After the other Q had left, and the Enterprise went spinning back to a
more familiar and hospitable portion of the quadrant, Picard summoned
Riker, Troi, and Crusher through the comm link. When they entered his
quarters, he announced, "I am going to have to devote my time to trying to
get Q out of this state he's in. I am willingly relinquishing command for
an indefinite period. Sometimes there are circumstances which take
precededence over one's duties, and this is one of them. If anyone can
revive him, apparently it's me, and I have no idea how long it will take.
I'm sorry, Beverly, I really do understand how hard this is for you."
Riker was surprised; Picard was not one to give up command for personal
considerations, however serious, and Riker had not even begun to
understand the depth of his Captain's feelings for Q. Troi, however, was
not surprised; it had been clear to her for a while that Picard was
gravitating more and more toward his omnipotent companion. She was
relieved to see that Beverly also understood, even if she was both jealous
and upset. As they left the room, Deanna asked Beverly if she wanted to
talk, and the two women walked off together, leaving Riker on his own to
try to grasp what he was just beginning to figure out. That Picard had
become friends with Q was apparent to anyone, but Riker would not have
imagined the intense emotional attachment Picard was exhibiting.
Having cleared necessary business out of the way, Picard turned his
attention to his patient. He settled himself on the bed, pulling his
motionless companion partly onto his lap. With one hand he held one of
Q's hands, and with the other he gently ran his fingers over the entity's
forehead and through his hair. Looking at Q's still face, Picard could
have wept. Q seemed impossibly beautiful to him in repose and impossibly
remote at the same time. Picard took a deep breath, attempting to compose
himself. Then he focused his attention and began to concentrate as he
never had before, trying to reach through the layers of unconscious to
where Q's essence remained dormant.
Picard continued in that position for over two hours. He was
concentrating so hard that he did not notice the door chime. The voice
coming from his comm badge did get his attention though. "Captain, it's
Guinan. Will you let me in?"
"Of course. Come." Guinan walked through the living area to the
bedroom. Picard glanced up. "I'm sorry, Guinan. I didn't hear the
door."
She glanced at Q. "Any luck?" Picard shook his head. Guinan walked over
to the bed, then sat down on the edge. She lifted one of Q's hands,
stroking it gently, then pressed her lips together in frustration. "It's
like there's nothing there." Picard nodded, looking distraught and
anxious, his concentration completely broken.
"Listen, Captain," said Guinan. "This may take days, weeks. You need
some rest. You're not going to be able to get through to him if you're
exhausted. When's the last time you ate anything?" Picard shrugged. "I
want you to get yourself something to eat and lie down for a while. I'll
stay with him. I've talked to Data, who's back to normal by the way, and
we're going to spell you, so you can get some rest. We will, of course,
wake you if anything happens."
Picard put his head in his hands. "I can't believe I forgot about Data.
That's awful."
Guinan smiled. "Picard, do you think you're being just a little hard on
yourself? You just defeated one of the most powerful threats you've ever
encountered, you're exhausted, and one of your closest friends is lying on
your bed in a coma. I think you're entitled to an occasional memory
lapse."
Picard shook his head. "No, I'm not. Not after what he did. All right,
Guinan, I appreciate the help. I'll go get some food and a nap, but I
want to talk to Data first." Picard walked wearily into the living room
of his quarters, tapping his badge and requesting, "Mr. Data, please
report to Captain's quarters." Data arrived in a few minutes, and Picard
stood up to greet him.
"Mr. Data, I want to tell you how glad I am to hear you've been fully restored."
"Geordi had no problem following the procedure I had laid out. I cannot
exactly say it *feels* better to be myself again, but I would prefer to be
more human than less so."
"I want to thank you, Data. I believe that one factor that contributed to
my being able to resist the entity was knowing I had you as a backup.
Knowing I could rely on you greatly improved my confidence that I could
withstand its powers. You're a courageous and unselfish person, Mr. Data,
and I hope I never ever have to ask you to dehumanize yourself like that
again."
"Thank you, Captain. How is Q?"
"The same as when we brought him in, I'm afraid. Guinan is in there now."
"I do not require sleep, Captain, and I would like to help in any way I
can. When I am off-duty I can sit with him and allow you to get some
rest."
"I appreciate it, Data. I'll take you up on it."
After Data left, Picard got himself some toast and tea from the
replicator. He didn't think he could stomach more than that; his insides
were knotted and churning. He lay down on the sofa, but felt unable to
relax, and felt even worse when he realized that he had been relying on Q
recently to take care of his occasional insomnia. He got up, went back
toward the bedroom door, and announced almost petulantly, "I can't sleep
anyway."
Guinan spoke through the comm link next to the bed. "Dr. Crusher, I have
a restless and cranky starship Captain here who needs some sleep. Do you
think you might be able to help me?"
"On my way," laughed Beverly.
Picard gave Guinan a withering look, then staggered, simultaneously wired
and exhausted, back out to the couch. When Beverly entered, he snapped,
"I don't need any drugs. I can take care of . . ."
"Shut up, Jean-Luc. Doctor's orders. You're completely exhausted and
wound up tighter than a spring."
He knew he was defeated. "Yes, Doctor," he murmured, bending his neck
forward obediently to receive the hypospray. Within a few moments he was
sound asleep, and Beverly spent a few minutes commiserating with Guinan
about the obstinacy of certain starship Captains.
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@aol.com (AtaraS)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 16 (1/2)
Date: 30 Aug 1995 14:39:42 -0400
Message-ID: <422b9e$qfh@newsbf02.news.aol.com>
Reply-To: ataras@aol.com (AtaraS)
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 18 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 16, Part 1
Picard lost all track of time as the days slipped by. He hardly ever left
his quarters, oblivious to what was going on in the rest of the ship.
Fortunately the Enterprise was engaged in a routine scientific mission.
Picard didn't need distractions, even with the command turned over to
Riker. He spent most of his days sitting on the bed, trying his hardest
to penetrate the blank wall that was Q's mind. Guinan and Data would
relieve him, so he could get some sleep and exercise, but he was never
comfortable leaving Q for very long. His accustomed position for hours at
a time was sitting cross-legged at the head of his bed, Q's head in his
lap, his fingers stroking his patient's hair and forehead as he tried to
break through. One day, finally, he felt the wall of silence that was
blocking him seem to shift, to waver. Picard intensified his
concentration and probed deeper. He felt movement, but he hadn't gotten
all the way through, and his frustration was growing.
* * *
The inner core of Q's consciousness was almost driven mad with sensory
deprivation, boredom, and loneliness. Q's being had been so utterly
drained by his contest with the alien entity that he didn't have any
capacity to chip away at the layers of darkness and silence that enveloped
him. The thought of Picard grew more and more urgent, but he had no
awareness of where he was or that Picard was with him. He tried to
remember how to see or hear or to control the movements of his adopted
human body, but the desire to act never translated into action. He
remembered having been able to create entire star systems, and the
contrast with his current state was almost too much too bear. "//Even
being human was better than this//," he fumed, frustrated at his utter
helplessness. The sensory deprivation in particular was more and more
maddening. Although Q couldn't tell how much time was passing, he knew
that he had not seen or felt anything other than darkness and silence for
what seemed like an eternity. He required diversion and stimulation, a
need that kept him roaming insatiably around the galaxy, but now he was in
a state where even the Continuum seemed like it afforded an infinite
variety of entertainment. Sometimes he diverted himself by cursing
fluently to himself in the thousands of languages he knew, sometimes he
recited books he had memorized to himself, mostly he thought about Picard.
Then, one day, he felt something. The darkness and silence shifted
somehow, as if being pressed upon from outside. He tried to wait
patiently, knowing that any exertion on his part would make things worse.
Something was reaching into him, probing gently but persistently into his
mind. Then he would have wept with joy if had the energy to produce
tears, for he finally sensed a mental voice break through the silence,
calling "//Q? Q? Damn it! Answer me!//"
Q's inner essence cried out, "//Jean-Luc?//"
The voice returned, gently, soothingly, "//I'm here, Q. I'm not going
anywhere. What can I do?//"
"//Just talk to me, please. Please stay. I feel like I've been waiting
for you forever.//"
"//I feel like I've been trying to get through to you forever. I won't
leave you, but I'm afraid you might be exerting yourself too much talking
to me.//"
"//I'm not exerting myself at all, actually. Don't you realize you're
reading my mind, Jean-Luc? I don't have the energy to project answers
back. I can 'hear' you and answer to myself, but you're reading my mind.
The tables have certainly turned, haven't they?//"
"//You're going to be all right. It's just going to take some time.//"
"//Where am I? The entity? What happened?//"
"//You're on board the Enterprise. You're safe. The entity has been
destroyed.//" Picard's anger at the being that had so harmed Q and
threatened him began to return. The tone of his mental voice had a hard
edge to it, as he continued, "//It made for a rather satisfying explosion,
actually.//"
"//I'm in awe. It seems I've underestimated you, mon Capitaine. I won't
make that mistake again.//"
"//I just remembered some advice a friend gave me. Something about the
mind being everything.//"
"//Damn!//" returned Q's mental voice, wonderingly. "//I'm utterly
impressed. I'm curious. Where on this ship am I?//"
"//You're in my quarters, lying on my bed. You've been here for days
without moving. Guinan and Data have also been sitting with you, and your
friend from the Continuum was here.//"
"//Q? Good old Q. Tell me more--what are you doing right now?//"
Picard hesitated. "//Your head is on my lap//," he replied slowly, "//and
I am holding one of your hands, and my other hand is stroking your
forehead. Satisfied?//"
"//Really, Picard, I didn't think you'd be the type to take advantage of a
helpless entity. Have you been doing anything else to me that I ought to
know about?//"
"//NO!//"
"//A pity. And Jean-Luc?//"
"//Yes?//"
"//You shouldn't snap at a guy when he's down.//"
"//Sorry, but you were asking for it. Listen, Q, I would love to continue
this conversation, but this process is rather exhausting for me.
Telepathy doesn't exactly come naturally to me. But I'll be back. I
promise.//"
"//I understand. I really am going to need your help when I'm ready to
start pushing my way out of here.//"
"//I know. Q?//"
"//Yes, Jean-Luc?//"
"//You can't begin to imagine what a relief it is to have you back.//"
"//Je t'aime, Jean-Luc.//"
* * *
After Picard had fortified himself with a meal and a nap, he returned to
the bed. Settling himself in in his accustomed position, he reached into
Q's mind.
"//How are you feeling?//"
"//Bored out of my mind, but delighted to hear your 'voice.' Jean-Luc,
I've got to at least get the equivalent of my senses back. You can't
imagine what it's like--complete darkness, total silence. I do have a lot
of mental resources with which to amuse myself, but the sensory
deprivation is driving me insane. And when one of us goes insane, it's
not pretty.//"
"//I can imagine. I'm ready. What can I do?//"
"//I need some of that Picardian energy and drive. Whenever I try to push
the darkness away on my own, it just closes in more. To use an old earth
term, I need a jumpstart, although I don't know exactly how you're going
to give it to me. We'll have to play it by ear.//"
"//OK, give me a minute to focus.//" Picard settled himself in more
comfortably, reached down and took each of Q's hands in his own, then
began a process with which he was now fairly familiar, blocking out all
distractions and considerations. Then he began the process of probing
deeply into Q's mind, penetrating through the layers of unconsciousness,
going deeper than he had before. Suddenly he was overwhelmed; he had
accessed Q's knowledge and memory, and it was flooding into his brain.
"//Block that out//," insisted Q's mental voice, "//you can't handle
it.//"
"//Quite so//," replied Picard. He erected a mental dam against the flood
of information.
Once he had done so, he began experiencing precisely what Q was
experiencing. He felt his senses slipping away as his mind was shrouded
in a darkness and silence so absolute that Picard felt as though he had
slipped into the vacuum of space. The sense of nothingness was
devastating, but Q's voice brought him back sharply. "//Don't lose
yourself. That won't help either of us. This isn't the time for our
minds to join. If you want to try it some time, it'd be my pleasure, but
now is not the time.//"
Picard began pulling back a little mentally. He was still observing Q's
remaining mental space enclosed in darkness and silence, but he had
regained a sense of his own mind as well. "//Jumpstart, huh?//" he
thought to himself. Picard squeezed Q's hands tighter and began imagining
a beam of energy flowing from his mind to Q's. He poured all of his
mental energy, all of his concentration, all of his feeling for Q and his
desire for his recovery into this beam, and it began to work. The
darkness began to clear and dissipate and fade. A flood of light poured
into Q's mind.
"//I think you've done it//," remarked Q's mental voice.
Picard gently disengaged his mind from Q's and opened his eyes. A
delighted grin broke out on his face when he saw that Q had, finally,
opened his as well. From Q's perspective, the first thing he saw was
Picard's head hovering over his, upside down, as he was lying on his back
with his head on Picard's lap. He first thing he felt was Picard's hands
tightly gripping both of his. He spoke, and his voice was weak, but
audible. "This is rather intimate, isn't it, mon Capitaine? Are you sure
you haven't been taking advantage of me?"
"Quite sure," whispered Picard, slowly releasing Q's hands, but delighted
to hear his voice.
"Don't go, but I think I would like the pleasure of seeing your face right
side up."
Picard extricated himself from where he was sitting, then repositioned
himself on the edge of the bed, facing his patient and once again taking
his hands into his own. Q's eyes roamed hungrily over Picard's face, then
he said very quietly, "God, you're beautiful. This little room in this
pathetic little ship seems like paradise. You know, I may have just
learned how to appreciate simple things." Picard smiled, stroking Q's
hands.
"Now what?" asked Picard.
Q tried lifting up his hand and arm, but it flopped quickly back on the
bed. "Not much, I'm afraid. I think I just have to lie here and wait for
my strength and powers to regenerate. It's frustrating as hell, but from
what I understand of my condition, I can't push myself too hard, or I'll
regress. It takes a lot of energy to keep one of us going, and when that
gets completely drained, it takes a while for it to be restored. And I
really hate being helpless like this. I hope you're patient, Picard,
because I'm going to be a real pain."
"So what's new?" asked Picard with a grin. Then more softly, "Be as much
of a pain as you want. I'm so delighted to have you back that I can put
up with whatever you can dish out."
"Well, I'm going to be very demanding."
"Demand away."
"How about a hug?" Picard bent down, sliding his arms around Q,
half-lifting him, and Q managed to drape his own arms loosely along
Picard's back. There they remained for close to a minute, then Picard
gently rearranged his patient back on the bed.
"You should rest, but let me know when you're ready for visitors. There
are quite a few people who are going to want to see you."
Q nodded. "I want to see them too."
Picard paused for a moment. "Now that you're conscious, Q, I really
should return to my duties. You'll have all the company you desire, but
you should rest, too. And I'll spend my free hours with you."
"I am, after all, installed in your quarters. I understand, Jean-Luc.
I'm flattered you relinquished your command for me in the first place."
"That's ridiculous, Q. How could I have done differently?"
* * *
Over the next several days, Q received a stream of visitors to keep him
occupied. Having been deprived of sights, sounds, and company for so
long, he took an ecstatic delight in each of his visitors, marvelling at
the details of their appearances and the quirks of their personalities.
Data's yellow eyes and desire to be human, Guinan's outlandish wardrobe
and knowing smile, Deanna Troi's physique and reassuring demeanor,
Geordi's warmth and directness, Riker's breezy confidence--all this and
more was a source of infinite fascination for him. Unable to move around
or use his powers, Q immersed himself in human individuality. His
visitors may have been flawed and limited, but they had a tremendous
amount to offer as well. Even Worf paid him a visit. Gruffly, he
acknowledged, "That was the act of a warrior to encounter that being
alone. That took courage."
"I appreciate the sentiment, Klingon," replied Q, "but actually, it was
pretty stupid of me. It all came from underestimating your Captain."
"That was a mistake," said Worf with a quick smile, "but taking the
responsibility to protect your friends and face a more powerful foe is
something I can admire."
"Thank you, Worf, but I'm going to dissipate your admiration somewhat by
admitting that I'd just as soon not be in that situation again. I'm much
more comfortable being the most powerful being around. *This*," Q
gestured at the bed, indicating his own helplessness, "is driving me
crazy."
Worf nodded sympathetically.
Q's willingness to sacrifice himself for the crew definitely enhanced his
popularity. One evening, as Picard was returning to his quarters, Riker
was on his way out. The first officer turned back to Q, who was sitting
up in bed, "You're sure you don't want to join us for poker? I'm sure the
Captain wouldn't mind us convening in here."
Q laughed. "Thanks, Riker, but even if I don't have my powers back, I
have restored my telepathic abilities. I'm not nearly as virtuous as
you're imagining me. Cheating just comes naturally to me."
Riker shrugged and left. Q turned anxiously to Picard, "Jean-Luc, now
that I can read your mind again, I want to watch your encounter with that
creature, if you don't think it would be too hard on you. I really want
to watch that puppy blow up." Picard looked startled at the hardness in
Q's voice. Q had been so preoccupied with his own recovery, that he
hadn't been dwelling on his fury at what had been done to him.
Picard said, "All right, if you don't think it will be too hard on *you*."
"I can take it."
Picard sat down on the edge of the bed, nodded, and said, "Be my guest."
He felt Q's mind entering his own and observed that Q seemed to be sifting
through his memories until he found what he wanted. Then Q selected
Picard's entire confrontation with the alien entity, starting from the
time Picard had come up with his plan. They both watched the memories
unfolding in Picard's mind, and Picard realized that Q was able to
extricate his memories much more vividly than he could himself. He was
almost reliving the experience. Q watched with admiration and wonder as
the being which had so crippled him exploded, replaying the moment a few
times with satisfaction. After he disengaged his mind from Picard's, he
sighed and smiled, and remarked, "Now that feels much better." Then he
paused and said slowly, "You know you enhanced that phaser beam, don't
you?"
"Well, yes," said Picard, "Geordi made modifications before we departed .
. ."
Q exploded, "Will you ever stop being so dimwitted, Picard? You enhanced
it with your mind. It couldn't have drilled through that shell by itelf."
"No, no," said Picard, shaking his head, "I didn't, I couldn't." Having
the power to communicate telepathically with Q was one thing, being able
to manipulate matter and energy with his mind was something else
altogether, and he wasn't ready for it.
"Yes, you did. You may not ever be able to do it again, but in this case,
shall we say, you rose to the occasion. You never cease to amaze me,
Jean-Luc."
* * *
***********************************************************
Atara Stein
"Gusty winds may exist."--road sign in New Mexico
From: ataras@aol.com (AtaraS)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 16 (2/2)
Date: 30 Aug 1995 14:44:28 -0400
Message-ID: <422bic$qhu@newsbf02.news.aol.com>
Reply-To: ataras@aol.com (AtaraS)
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 18 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 16, Part 2
Q's powers were returning slowly, but he had to exert all of his
self-discipline to prevent himself from trying to do too much too soon.
He was beginning to get restless, but it took him several days to realize
that he was actually enjoying all the attention he was getting from
Picard, Data, Guinan, and the others, especially Picard. He still felt
chagrined about how helpless he was, but when Picard sat with him, rubbing
his shoulders or forehead, he basked in the sensation; there was something
enticing about being taken care of. Still, with each passing day, Q's
restlessness grew. As his recovery progressed, he became more and more
uneasy about his need for Picard's company and more and more anxious to
regain his usual self-sufficiency.
As Q recovered, his blond compatriot made regular visits to check on his
progress. On one such occasion, Picard had been in the room, sitting on
the bed with Q and urging him not to exert himself. After he had to
return to the bridge, the second Q appeared in the room, remarking, "I
honestly don't know *what* you see in him. I'll grant you, he's cute, but
don't you feel like you're degrading yourself just a leetle bit by
consorting with a human?"
"Jealous?"
The second Q didn't reply, so Q pressed his question more forcefully:
"*Are you jealous?*" Without waiting for an answer, Q invaded his
companion's mind, then laughed gleefully, "You *are* jealous! And of a
*mere* human, yet."
"You never learn, do you?" snapped the second Q. "You have absolutely no
respect for anyone's privacy, but if anyone presumes to make the slightest
intrusion on yours, you blow up."
"Hmm," mused Q mockingly, "Knowledge is power, and I always *did* like to
be on top. And you knew that from the start. But you have no right to
complain, my sweet--our separation was *your* idea."
"Yes, because it was obvious you were suffocating with boredom. You had
probed every recess of my mind, and you had nothing left to discover. But
every time I tried to read you, to figure out where I stood, you lost your
temper and threw barriers up in every direction. You locked me out, while
forcing me to remain open to you, and the only clear emotion that I could
register from you was boredom--what choice did I have?"
"Not much, I'll grant you--if I was going with myself, I would have broken
up with myself long before you did," conceded Q, "but you certainly didn't
waste any time getting your revenge. I may have been insufferable, but I
never would have betrayed you the way you betrayed me. You turned the
Continuum against me. You put me in charge of testing humans because you
were sure they would pass the tests, and I would be humiliated. You
exiled me, and you stripped me of my powers. But your campaign against me
backfired, dear; thanks to your insistence that I be assigned humans, the
most dreaded research assignment in the Continuum, I have met the one
being in the universe I can really care about. You have only yourself to
blame."
"If you weren't bedridden . . . " fumed Q's fellow entity. "I don't know
why I'm talking to you anyway. I wish you joy of your Captain, and I wish
him luck--he'll need it. If I'm jealous, it's because my memory of what a
plague you are is obviously much too short. Fortunately for me, the
memories are flooding back."
Q smiled, almost affectionately; his newly-developping capacity for
forgiveness was overriding his usual tendency to hold a grudge until the
end of time. He noted, "Well, that should cure your lovesickness for a
while, Q. Isn't there anyone else?"
Q's blond companion sighed, and he said softly, "I've been with others who
were a lot easier to get along with, but none anywhere near as
intoxicating as you. I'd better go. How about a kiss for old times'
sake?"
Q complied with his compatriot's request. The second Q then raised a hand
in farewell, admonishing Q, "Try to keep out of trouble, OK?" Then he
couldn't resist adding, "You, in love with a human--what a delicious
irony." He immediately rematerialized on the bridge. The bridge crew was
no longer startled by these sudden arrivals and departures, but the silent
conversation being carried on between the stranger and the Captain roused
their curiosity. It was to remain unsatisfied however.
"//Captain//," announced the second Q, "//I'm going to take my leave.
Your patient is well on the road to recovery. And, Captain . . .//"
"//Yes?//"
"//Take care of him, OK? He needs someone to keep an eye on him.//"
Picard smiled and nodded. "//I'll do my best, but it won't be easy.//"
"//You're telling me. Good luck. You'll need it.//"
Light blazed, and the blond Q was gone. Picard realized the two Qs had a
history. "//He certainly does get around, doesn't he?//" he mused to
himself.
* * *
Picard's prediction that taking care of Q wouldn't be easy came true
sooner than he would have anticipated. For all his vaunted
self-sufficiency, Q had a tremendous desire to be looked up to and a
corresponding distaste at being belittled in any fashion. One reason he
had returned repeatedly to the Enterprise over the years to torment Picard
was to get back at him for the mockery the Captain inflicted on him. The
more Picard revealed his utter contempt for Q, the more crucial it became
for Q to force Picard to bend to his will. He repeatedly laid traps for
Picard, rigging the scenarios he set up so that Picard would be proven
wrong again and again. Q was equally sensitive to the opinions of his
fellow Qs. His overwrought anger at Picard after his confrontation with
the Continuum was in direct proportion to his sense of humiliation that
his pet had failed so miserably. And now he had had to put up with his
colleague's derision at his choice of love interests. It was hard enough
for him to accept that he was utterly captivated by a mere human, but to
be the object of Continuum gossip was too much altogether. He was a Q,
after all, and a Q never *needed* anyone or anything. Relationships were
a way of whiling away time and adding spark to a monotonous existence, but
liasons with members of inferior species were simply a means to an end. A
humanoid love object could be no more than a pet because it would be both
degrading and undignified actually to fall in love with such a lesser
being. Q couldn't believe he had forgotten himself to such an extent as
to let Picard become *that* important to him.
When Picard returned to his quarters, he found that Q had developed an
attitude. He sensed it as soon as he walked in the door, and he had no
intention of rolling over and playing dead for Q's benefit. Q may have
been in the mood to dish out abuse, but Picard wasn't having any. Q was
lying on the couch, his feet propped up on the arm, paging idly through a
book. He didn't bother to turn his head when Picard entered, but after a
few moments, he released the book, which drifted a couple of feet above
the couch and remained there. "He's cute, isn't he?" asked Q laconically.
"Who?"
"My friend from the Continuum. Don't you think he's cute?"
"I hadn't noticed," replied Picard equally laconically. "It doesn't occur
to me to assess men or entities in male form for that matter in terms of
their relative cuteness."
Q turned his head toward Picard for the first time, "And that's because in
that respect as in so many ways you're still the narrow, limited creature
you were when I met you, Picard. After all my attempts to open your mind,
you remain entrenched in your close-minded little world-view."
"It's true," said Picard, maintaining his mild demeanor, although he
couldn't prevent an edge of frost from creeping into his voice, "I haven't
been making strenuous efforts to raise myself to your exalted level. You
and I may share many qualities, but I'm not going to modify the rest of
myself so I can serve as a more perfect mirror for you. If you're looking
for a reflection of your own glory, you're not going to find it in me, a
*mere* human."
"Is *that* what you think I'm looking for, Picard?" said Q in a steely
tone. "Don't flatter yourself that I could ever begin to think of you as
a mirror. You couldn't even come close. I hadn't realized how refreshing
it was to converse with someone whose mind is capable of sustaining some
actual ideas. Of course, you couldn't possibly understand what it's
like."
"Then why don't you join him then?" queried Picard, his voice becoming
increasingly icy.
Q yawned and stretched as he got up from the couch. "Well, my limited
friend, you may have had one substantial triumph, but frankly, you've
still got a *long* way to go. Whether you like it or not, I'm responsible
for you now, remember? You're still much too flawed to be allowed to roam
around the galaxy on your own."
That did it. Picard's patience was at an end. "Q, I am tired of this. I
am neither your property nor your pet. And I want you out of here NOW!"
"You can't tell me what to do, *human*. I'm not going *anywhere*."
"Suit yourself." Picard stretched out comfortably on the couch, put up
his feet, and began thumbing through a book, studiously ignoring Q. The
book flew out of his hands and upward, where it remained hovering near the
ceiling. Picard folded his arms across his chest and sighed.
"We'll just have to see how long your arrogance can hold out," threatened
Q.
As Picard watched in numb amazement, his quarters began to melt away. As
the walls melted, they spun dizzily in a vertigo-inducing blur. As the
spinning motion slowed down, he found himself standing alone on a small
plateau near the top of a large volcano, who knows where, a short walk
from the lip of the crater, which was emitting billows of steam. "//Q,
damn it!//" he exclaimed in his head, "//You don't need to do this. For
pity's sake, I know what you're capable of. You don't need to prove
anything to me.//"
No reply.
"//All right, then, very well. We'll play your little game. I've never
seen a volcano erupt from this close before. I'm sure it will be very
educational.//" Picard walked up to the lip of the crater and gazed in.
The volcano clearly was close to erupting. Picard watched the yellow and
orange and black swirls of molten lava boiling furiously. "//Very
impressive, display, Q//," continued Picard. Although he heard no reply,
he still could sense that Q was listening. "//Certainly a more creative
way of blowing off steam, if you'll pardon the expression, than smashing
one's fist into a wall or shattering a glass.//" Picard smiled at his own
small joke.
He then returned to the point a couple hundred feet from the rim where he
had first found himself and waited, watching the bursts of steam from the
crater and remarking mentally, "//I won't grovel or beg for help, so if
that's what you're looking for, you won't get it.//" As the mountain
began to rumble and shake, he felt an instinctive clutch of fear, which he
instantly dismissed. With a devastating roar, the top of the volcano blew
right off. As Picard watched, huge chunks of rock whizzed past his head,
and hot molten lava coursed furiously downhill. Picard remained standing,
his arms folded, as the river of lava parted around the small plateau
where he stood, then merged again below him. The sky filled with steam
and smoke, and the ground continued to shake, without, however, knocking
Picard off-balance. He was actually enjoying himself, almost hypnotized
by watching the glistening, surging flow of lava.
As the eruption began to subside, Picard felt himself as if in the center
of a whirlpool. The world around him spun dizzily and rapidly, finally
slowing until he found himself back on the couch in his quarters, alone.
An instant later, the hovering book drifted down from the ceiling and into
his hands. "//Well, Q, you certainly think of everything//," said Picard
as he sighed and put down the book to indulge in a sustained stretch.
No reply.
"//Q, I'm sorry if this is a blow to your ego, but you didn't frighten me.
Not this time. And you're hopelessly dim if you haven't figured out by
now that I trust you. Absolutely. You can annoy the hell out of me, but
you can't frighten me. Don't you get it, you half-witted entity? I
*trust* you.//"
No reply.
"//I know you're listening, and I can just imagine how furious you are
that your little display did not have the desired effect. Nice try,
though//," he concluded helpfully.
Still no reply. With a sigh Picard strode out of his quarters and headed
for Ten-Forward. He walked in and headed for a corner table. Guinan
immediately made him a drink then went over to join him.
"Lovers' quarrel?" she asked with a smile, as she sat down.
Picard raised the drink slightly, saying "Thanks." He continued, "Guinan,
Q and I are *not* lovers. I don't know what we *are*, but it's not that.
But you're right about the quarrel part. And he made an impressive
display of temper. He's probably fuming that he didn't terrify me."
Guinan laughed. "I've experienced his tantrums. He's very inventive."
"Quite so," acknowledged Picard. "Well, it's partially my fault. Why do
I let him get under my skin so easily? I ought to understand what's going
on. His friend was probably giving him a hard time about me, but even
more, he probably really resents his dependence these days. After all, I
had to come to *his* rescue--knowing Q, that's probably eating away at
him. I know him well enough now that I should be able to see when he
really just needs some understanding, but instead I just take his bait
over and over again."
Guinan smiled and nodded sympathetically. "Q is a person like the rest of
us--emotionally he's as human as you are, perhaps even more so. He just
has a much larger canvas on which to express himself."
"Thanks," said Picard, raising his eyebrows, "even you're accusing me of
being inhuman."
"Well, Picard, you do hold yourself to an impossibly high standard. For
example, you're entitled to get pissed off at Q. He can be very childish,
as you've just experienced. Unlike most members of the Continuum, Q is
constantly exploding with energy. He can't channel that energy toward any
constructive purpose, the way you can, because he can have whatever he
wants whenever he wants it. So he's always looking for an outlet. And he
has a great deal invested in his image of himself as a self-sufficient,
autonomous being, an outlaw if you will. He has tremendous powers and
knowledge and intelligence, even for a Q, but he has no experience in
adapting himself to others. He's always been able to find romantic
partners because of the force of his personality, but he's always left
them at the first suggestion that he might have to give or compromise, or
he's driven them away, which amounts to the same thing. Given this
self-image he's constructed, it's inevitable there are going to be
fireworks when coming up against a personality as strong as yours. He's
actually adjusted very well to being on board the ship; I was worried he'd
blow us to bits accidently from sheer nervous energy, but he's been
successful at channeling that, which is quite an accomplishment for Q.
You're just going to have to put up with the occasional explosion because
his self-control inevitably runs out. But next time you see him, he'll be
much calmer. If he picks fights with you, it's just one of his ways of
dissipating energy, but it also helps him maintain his sense of his own
dignity. I don't think you really understand yet what you mean to him,
Captain, and how hard it must be for him to acknowledge that there
*exists* a being that means that much to him."
"It is hard for me to understand that because I don't know what it can
mean for an entity of his power and immortality to become attached to a
mortal. Data once said he thought Q's fascination with me was like that
of a master with a beloved pet . . ."
"That may have been the case in the past, but it isn't now, and you know
it," said Guinan almost reproachfully. "What it means for an entity of
his power to become attached to you is exactly what it would mean for any
of us to become attached to someone. His powers are altogether in another
dimension, or several, as is his lifespan, but emotionally he's absolutely
human, Picard. He has needs, desires, vulnerabilities, and fears, and a
very human instinct to protect himself from revealing those fears and
vulnerabilities. You're not so different in that respect. In fact, you
two are very much like."
Picard nodded. "Of course, that's why we get along so badly."
Picard went back to his quarters and sat back thoughtfully on the couch.
Within a few moments he heard the door chime. "Come." To his surprise,
it was Q. While Q had improved his manners when visiting other shipmates,
he had never used the door chime when visiting Picard. He had always
simply appeared. Q walked in and began to pace. His eyes were downcast,
but Q was trying to muster his usual smile.
He paused for a moment, then said, "Your trust means everything to me, but
I don't deserve it."
"Yes, you do," replied Picard. "Since you've been on this ship, you've
never violated it. That's not to say you aren't a royal pain, because you
are," he continued with a slight smile.
"True enough. I'm sorry, Jean-Luc. I was being my usual thoughtless and
inconsiderate self, but you deserve better. I'm really sorry."
"You're not sorry," said Picard, but he was smiling. "At least you're not
sorry about your little performance, which I enjoyed tremendously, by the
way. If you're sorry about anything, it's that you didn't achieve the
victory you were looking for."
"I suppose you're right. I'm a hopeless fool, and everything you said
about me before was true."
"Don't you see? You can threaten all you want, and I know you have the
capacity to overpower me or kidnap me or brainwash me, but I know with
equal certainty you'd never actually do it."
"It's true," said Q as he continued to pace. "I care about you too much
for that. I just felt like you were taking me for granted ever since you
came galloping to my rescue. It's not that I'm ungrateful, but I felt
this irresistable impulse to try to force you to acknowledge my power."
"I do acknowledge it. I would never underestimate you. I just have
complete confidence you won't harm me. But just because you've earned my
trust doesn't mean I take you for granted. You're much too impossible
ever to take for granted."
"I'm glad to hear it. I am sorry for being so petty though."
Picard smiled, "I wasn't exactly on my best behavior either."
"Well, I started it, as I usually do. I did warn you I wouldn't be easy
to get along with."
Picard laughed. "I never for a moment imagined you would be. In fact I'd
probably be disappointed if all of a sudden you were. But you needn't
feel diminished because you didn't frighten me. I never forget for a
moment that you have the power to do whatever you want with me."
Q smiled slightly, "Well, the truth is, Jean-Luc, *you* can do whatever
you want with *me*. That's not a position I'm used to."
***********************************************************
Atara Stein
"Gusty winds may exist."--road sign in New Mexico
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 17 (1/2)
Date: 2 Sep 1995 01:31:25 GMT
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 291
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NNTP-Posting-Host: user34.lightside.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 18 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 17, Part 1
Q had completely recovered, obviously, and the Enterprise crew was getting
used to the spectacle of seeing Q and Picard walk down a corridor together
or sit in Ten-Forward carrying on an animated conversation, without a
single word being spoken. Q could make Picard laugh more than anyone else
could, but his mercilessly wicked sense of humor made Picard grateful that
he was the only one who could "hear" Q's remarks. Although Q was getting
along famously with the Enterprise's crew, creating magnificent spectacles
with his returned powers and generally proving himself an infinitely
entertaining shipmate, it became increasingly apparent to those who knew
him at all that all was not well. Q prowled the corridors of the
Enterprise like a caged tiger pacing in a zoo, provoking a similar type of
cognitive dissonance in his observers. On the one hand, it was
exhilarating to contemplate all that energy and power at close range and
in safety; on the other hand, it was disconcerting to realize that what
one was observing was most definitely out of its element and didn't
belong. Even his increasingly frequent solo expeditions around the galaxy
were not sufficient to dispel his accumulating nervous energy. What was
becoming increasingly clear to him was something he did not want to admit.
Returning to the ship after one such expedition, Q was feeling more than
usually conscious of the sensation of confinement that was oppressing
him. The walls seemed to be closing in, and even the prospect of seeing
Picard when he was off-duty couldn't dispel his mood. Q popped into
Ten-Forward, flinging himself onto a bar stool and causing the ship to
lurch slightly in the process. Guinan walked over to him hesitantly. She
knew what he needed to hear, but she didn't know if he was ready to hear
it. Q and Guinan never wasted time on preliminaries when they talked
together; they simply got right to the point. "I worry sometimes," she
said carefully, "that you might accidentally blow us to pieces after all.
That energy needs some sort of outlet."
"Well, if I do," snapped Q irritably, "I can dispel even more energy
putting you back together."
"It wouldn't be a pleasant experience for us though, believe me. This,"
Guinan gestured, as if indicating the whole ship, "isn't right for you.
It's not natural."
"What are you talking about, Woman? I don't have to be here. I chose
it. Don't you understand how important he is to me?"
"Yes I do, but is he so important to you that you're willing to be untrue
to yourself? And him. It's obvious that being on this ship as much as
you are is making you claustrophobic, but has it occurred to you that
Picard may not be ready for such continuous proximity either? There is a
bond between the two of you; you're terribly important to him. I think
you've gotten closer to him than you ever imagined you would. But I don't
think the connection between you is going to be served by your being in
each other's faces all the time. That's not who he is, and that's not
what you are."
Q looked miserable. "But Guinan, damn it, he's mortal! The time I have
with him is so limited."
"Isn't that more of a reason to make the time you have actually mean
something, instead of forcing a proximity that isn't natural to either of
you? You can see him whenever you want; I just don't think your remaining
here is good for you or your relationship with him."
Q slammed his hand into the bar, and the ship gave an even more decided
lurch. Guinan tried to repress a smile and walked over to the comm panel
at the end of the bar. "Ten-Forward to bridge. No need to worry. Q's
just letting off a little excess energy."
"Acknowledged." replied Picard crisply. "If you think he's in the mood
for taking advice, would you kindly suggest to him that he blow off steam
elsewhere? Picard out."
Q glared at Guinan, and exclaimed, "Do you want to know what I really
*hate* about you, Woman? You know better than I do, and that's supposed
to be *my* job."
"Well, you need someone to look after you, too," said Guinan gently.
Q spoke mentally to Picard, asking to talk to him when he was off-duty,
then turned back to Guinan, shaking his head slowly. "I thought I knew
what I wanted, but it turns out I don't. I really have been around humans
too long; I'm starting to get as confused as they are."
* * *
Picard walked slowly to his quarters, knowing that things couldn't
continue the way they had been. Q simply wasn't capable of staying in one
place for long, even if that place was a travelling starship. As far as
Picard was concerned, he felt confident in his connection with his
omnipotent companion, but right now Q was taking up too much of his
attention and time. Picard was grateful for having found a companion with
whom he had so much in common, who allowed him to be himself in a way he
really couldn't with his crew, but he also craved privacy. His time alone
had always been very precious to him, allowing him to pursue interests
that were satisfying and soul-restoring diversions from the
responsibilities of command. When was the last time he had picked up a
paintbrush? Or his Ressikan flute? As far as Q was concerned, he found
himself already starting to take his presence for granted; before the
incident with the extra-galactic entity, he had felt himself slipping into
a comfortable complacency, lulled by the protection Q offered. And at the
same time, he started to find his irritation at Q's faults returning;
Picard couldn't help noticing Q's petulance and self-indulgence, his
expectation that Picard drop everything when he wanted attention. Picard
wanted the exhilaration and stimulation Q's presence often provided; Q's
knowledge, powers, and energy made him an infinitely intriguing
companion. But Picard didn't have it in him to deal with Q on a daily
basis; that would seem to require a superhuman level of patience, a level
of patience even his fellow Qs were lacking.
Picard paused as the doors to his quarters slid open, then walked in to
find Q, as he expected, reclining on the couch. Q jumped up to a sitting
position as soon as Picard entered. Picard smiled, walking up to him, and
remarking gently, "You might want to restrain those sudden motions a bit.
I don't know if the inertial damping system can handle the stress."
"Sorry," replied the entity, patting the couch next to him. "Just a
little nervous energy . . ."
"Which our primitive technology isn't adequate to handle," Picard finished
for him, sitting down, still smiling. He sighed, then said, "We have a
problem here, don't we?"
"Quite so," replied Q, imitating Picard's accent and inflection with a
smile. "I really am fond of this primitive clunker, you know. It feels
like home, but that's part of the problem. Having a place to drop in on
is very appealing, but feeling like I'm actually expected to be somewhere
doesn't suit me very well."
"I understand," noted Picard. "It must feel very similar to being
planet-bound for me. After a while, I have to be moving again."
"I really have to get away from this ship, but don't get me wrong," said
Q. "I'm still going to be keeping an eye on you. As far as I'm
concerned, your education is far from over, my friend. And I have plenty
of vacation ideas for you. After all, you'll need something to occupy you
when you retire. Meanwhile, I'll still be an annoyingly frequent visitor
and undoubtedly outstay my welcome, and if you're in any real trouble,
I'll be really pissed off if you don't call me, even though you seem quite
capable, these days, of taking care of yourself."
"You just don't want to miss any action. Understand though, that I will
only call you as a last resort. It's not that I'm ungrateful for the
protection you offered, but when I *had* to rely on myself, it was the
first time I really felt myself again in command since you came on board.
You know, you're the one who showed me I have to take risks. I have to
fly without a net, Q, but I'm not so arrogant as to say that I will never
request your assistance. Your guidance has proven invaluable to me. Do
you understand?"
"Yes, and I also understand now that my guidance is only useful to you
insofar as it helps you rely on yourself. I knew you had potential, but
even so, I had no idea how much. But that's not really why I'm leaving.
I'm leaving because I'm claustrophobic . . . in more ways than one. If we
keep seeing each other on a daily basis, we're going to start throwing
furniture at each other, and eventually I'd get tired of repairing the
damage to your ship. You're very important to me Jean-Luc, but you'll be
relieved to know I don't want to marry you."
"*Did* you?" asked Picard cautiously.
Q laughed. "Not exactly. I wasn't envisioning a future that consisted of
the two of us puttering around the kitchen in our bathrobes and squabbling
over who misplaced the pizza cutter."
Picard laughed heartily at the image. "Now that *is* frightening, Q."
"See, I still can strike fear in you. Let me ask you something,
Jean-Luc. When I took Vash away from you, you let her go graciously
enough. Let the best man win and all that. You imagined me triumphing in
rousing your jealousy of me. But did it *ever* enter your *straight* and
narrow little mind that I was trying to make you jealous of *her*?"
Picard sighed and put his head in his hands. "No, Q, I can't say that had
occurred to me."
"Well, are you getting it now? Do you understand why I came here?" In a
harder tone, he added, "Hell, even Data figured it out."
"I suspect," murmured Picard, "that I was trying very hard to *avoid*
figuring it out, Q. *That* is not something I'm ready for."
"I know," said Q with a slight smile. "But I'll tell you what. I don't
think I am either. Seriously, Jean-Luc, I'm not exactly sure what I
wanted. I still feel the impulse to assert some kind of dominion over you
.. . . "
"As I will continue to resist," interjected Picard with a smile.
"And well you should. I can't help trying to compel you to capitulate to
me, but I'd be terribly disappointed if you actually did. But beyond
trying to exercise power over you, and even beyond seeing myself in you
and forcing you to see yourself in me, I think what I really wanted was
simply to forge a genuine connection with you."
"And that you have, Q. Just because I can't . . . or I'm not ready for .
.. . well, you know what I'm getting at . . . that doesn't mean I don't
want you in my life. There's a bond between us that is terribly important
to me. In my own very particular way--and you *forced* me to say this
once before, but now I say it willingly--*I need you*. You've forced me
to acknowledge parts of myself I thought I had long buried, parts of
myself that I'm very grateful to have rediscovered. But it's not only
that. Even though you are the most maddening individual I've ever
encountered, I really do enjoy your company."
"As I do yours," noted Q, "and you may be a pompous ass on occasion,
Jean-Luc, but if I had lungs, you would take my breath away. For me to
feel that way about anyone or anything is a miracle. And I want to keep
it that way. . . . My existence has been pretty short of miracles for
some time now. The last thing I want is to start taking you for granted
or vice versa." Picard nodded, one of those trademark Picard nods which
conveyed complete understanding and agreement. "By the way," continued Q,
"has anyone ever told you that you're unutterably beautiful?"
"I've heard rumors to that effect," replied Picard uncomfortably, "but
they were unsubstantiated."
"No. They weren't. You know," remarked Q, "I've *finally* discovered
something you're modest about. And entirely without cause. I can tell
you things about yourself you *should* be modest about, but your looks are
not among them."
Anxious to change the subject, Picard queried, "When I was in your mind,
when you started recovering, you said something about joining minds. What
did you mean by that? How is that different from communicating
telepathically or mind-reading?"
"Oh nothing, I was just babbling."
"No you weren't. What did you mean?"
Q made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "Oh, Picard, you have far too
much curiosity about things beyond your ken. I shouldn't have mentioned
it."
Picard's hand lashed out and grasped Q's wrist in an iron grasp. In a
steely voice, he enuniciated slowly, "*Don't* patronize me. I've earned
that much."
"You're right, OK?" snapped Q, rubbing his wrist. "I'll *try* to explain
it to you, but if you *don't* get it, don't blame me. You may be a
particularly advanced specimen of your species, but you're still limited,
and you have to acknowledge that, on the whole, my powers and knowledge
exceed yours. There are aspects of Q existence that are very difficult to
convey verbally."
"Then you'll just have to show me," said Picard.
Q raised his eyebrows. "My, aren't we overconfident? Well, I'll explain
it to you, and then you can decide if you *think* you can handle it. Or
want to. First of all, let me tell you what it's not. Joining minds is
not like the equivalent of sex for us."
"Do you *have* sex?" asked Picard, his curiosity now thoroughly piqued.
"Now you're patronizing *me*!" snapped Q. "What do you think we are?
Stiffs? Of course we have sex, but it's not like how you have sex."
"What *is* it like?" asked Picard, with strained patience.
"Wouldn't you like to know, *Johnny*? OK, the best description I can give
you that *you'll* understand is that we *mingle* if you will, and, umm,
exchange and release a lot of energy. But the real difference is that we
view sex quite differently from you. It's not the intimate act it is with
humans, and it doesn't entail the same vulnerability. It's more playful.
Where the real intimacy and vulnerability comes in is joining minds."
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q.,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 17 (2/2)
Date: 2 Sep 1995 01:37:01 GMT
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 294
Message-ID:
NNTP-Posting-Host: user38.lightside.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 18 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 17, Part 2
"Joining minds is something we do with an individual we feel particularly
close to. It's altogether on a different level than our everyday
telepathic communication. I'll describe it as best I can. When we
communicate telepathically, even though we may be able to *read* every
layer of each other's minds, we're still essentially on the outside,
looking in. We retain our separate identities. Joining minds involves a
temporary merging of two individuals into one. It's a kind of intimacy
and vulnerability a human can't begin to imagine. We surrender ourselves
completely to each other. We literally cease to exist as separate
individuals, and our minds . . . well . . . fuse, merge, blend, coalesce,
intermingle, however you'd like to imagine it. We become one being and
share . . . everything. We see as if with one pair of eyes." Q's voice
was dreamy and abstracted, as he tried to evoke the experience. Then his
tone of voice shifted. "And it's scary as hell, Picard. But it's . . .
well, it's indescribable. It's like being reborn. It doesn't mean that
you're committed to that individual forever or anything, but it's a way
that we express a very, very, very profound level of trust and communion
that we're feeling at that particular time. We're pretty mercurial, and
our feelings often change, but there are times when two individuals are
so--how would you say it?--in tune that they're willing to risk that level
of intimacy. It's actually a fairly rare event for us; sex is much less
threatening if nowhere near as satisfying."
"Yet, you proposed this to me, I remember." said Picard slowly and thoughtfully.
"Well, I meant it, I think. I don't know if you can handle it, but I can
always put you back together if you're overwhelmed. There is not another
being in the universe that I have ever felt more desire to join minds with
than you. You're so much a part of me that our separateness frustrates
the hell out of me. But I thought it was perhaps too much to ask of you,
so I kept my desires to myself."
"I'm intrigued, Q," said Picard, his brow furrowed in thought. "In fact,
I'm very intrigued. The idea of it is very intimidating, but it's
overwhelmingly enticing at the same time--to merge with *your* mind, to
*know* you on that level. On the one hand, I feel that there is so much
that binds us, that we have in common, that we share; on the other hand
you seem so overwhelmingly alien to me that I can't begin to understand
you. We've been through so much that I find the barriers that separate us
frustrating as well. This *is* something I feel ready for. Q, I want to
try this."
Q was both moved and surprised, but he said cautiously. "I've never done
this with a mortal before . . ."
"Don't you mean a *mere* mortal?" interrupted Picard.
"That's right. He *can* learn! For all I know you might be so absorbed
that you forget to keep breathing or keep your heart beating."
"You can revive me, remember?"
"Good point. A question, Jean-Luc--are you scared?"
"Yes," replied Picard softly.
"Good. You should be. If you'd said you weren't, then I would have known
you didn't have the faintest idea what you were getting into. Now I know
you have an inkling at least. I have to warn you--it can be
overwhelming. In fact it's supposed to be. If you can, just go with it.
If you can't take it though, you can always, if you'll excuse the
metaphor, pull out."
"You have a way with words, Q," remarked Picard.
"This isn't going to be like anything you've every experienced, Jean-Luc.
It's so far beyond any human interpersonal connection that you can't
possibly have any context to imagine it. And it's entirely different from
any experiences you may have had with telepathy or even having your mind
taken over. When that happened, you were still in there struggling to get
out. What I'm talking about is losing your self, your identity entirely.
You cease to be yourself, and you merge with the other person. The
closest thing you've experienced to it is a Vulcan mind-meld; it's
similar, but it's not really like that either. There you have two
individuals joined but retaining separate identities, *exchanging*
thoughts and emotions. You think and feel what the other thinks and
feels, but you're still yourself. When we join minds, there's no transfer
going on; you simply are *one* being."
"I understand. No, I don't understand. But I want to."
Q smiled, lifted Picard's hand to his lips, and said softly, "You are
truly the most remarkable individual I have ever met throughout all the
eons of my existence. Je t'aime."
"Je t'aime aussi," said Picard, pressing Q's hand.
"OK," said Q. "Lie down. You're going to be much too engrossed to have
any control over your body." Picard complied, and Q disengaged his hand
from Picard's, slid off the couch and sat down on the floor, his back
against the couch, explaining, "This is an entirely mental experience.
Physical contact would only interfere."
"What do I do?" asked Picard.
"Well, first you relax and do whatever you need to do to block out
everything else and concentrate. I'll know when you're ready. Then we,
and it sounds tricky, but it really isn't, simultaneously open our minds
as much as possible to each other and reach as deeply as we can into each
other's minds. Somewhere along the way, we actually begin to merge. It
doesn't happen instantaneously."
"OK," said Picard, "I'm ready."
He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, clearing his mind and relaxing as
much as he could into a state of receptivity, opening his mind to allow
his companion the fullest possible access. Then he began probing deeply
into Q's mind as he had done before but without blocking anything out. As
if his mind was a container being slowly filled up, he felt Q's knowledge,
memories, experiences, feelings and thoughts pouring steadily into him.
At the same time he felt completely exposed; he could feel Q's powerful
presence exploring every layer of his consciousness, absorbing secrets and
desires he had never confessed to anyone, viewing childhood experiences,
reliving crises he had faced in command, and fully apprehending all the
conflicting feelings that made him who he was--the fears and self-doubt as
well as the arrogance and confidence, the deep-rooted desire to do right
and the anguished frustration at his failures. Picard had been
unconscious when Q had reconstructed his mind and identity after he
surrendered the powers back; this was the first time he had felt himself
so totally exposed.
For a while Picard felt as if he were viewing two parallel tracks, his own
mind filling with the content of Q's and Q absorbing his consciousness in
its entirety. Gradually, the two sensations began to merge; he was
beginning to be unable to distinguish between his own thoughts and Q's,
his own feelings and memories and experiences and those of his
companion's. A wave of panic washed through him as he felt his identity
slipping, being swallowed by a much more powerful consciousness. He was
beginning to forget who he was. He was lost, assaulted by an overwhelming
barrage of hundreds and hundreds of years' worth of memories and
devastatingly intense emotions--a pervasive ennui combined with
restlessness and a cynical despair, an acute and irresistable desire for
attention, a childishly sadistic satisfaction in the sufferings of others,
a defiant rebelliousness, and a profound, crushing loneliness, an utter
conviction of never being able to belong. At he same time, he sensed a
conjunction of newer, rawer feelings about someone--himself? (whoever he
was, he couldn't remember)--an intense and surprising interest in
something outside the self, a yearning for approval mixed with a sadistic
desire to conquer, a growing affection mixed with exasperation, a
compulsive urge to dominate mixed with a wistful impulse to surrender, a
triumphant exultation over the other's errors mixed with a genuine wish to
educate and guide, the proprietary pride of a parent toward a child, of a
teacher toward a beloved pupil, of a mentor toward a successful protege
mixed with irritation, frustration, and impatience, attraction,
resentment, embarrassment, fascination, amusement, anger, desire, a
delighted recognition of a soulmate, longing and more longing, and a
growing, deepening love. He saw himself but it was not like looking in a
mirror; he saw himself entirely through Q's eyes, actually felt the impact
his looks, his voice, his personality, his presence, his aura of
controlled passion and contained energy had on another. He would have
been utterly embarrassed at the unabashed admiration he sensed toward
himself except that he didn't retain enough of himself to be embarrassed.
It was growing harder to distinguish who was feeling what. Converging on
his apprehension of Q's feelings *about* him were all of the feelings Q
provoked *in* him: fury, fear, hostility, contempt, irritation,
impatience, perplexity, self-doubt, curiosity, wonder, gratitude,
competitiveness, friendship, intimidation, fascination, recognition,
kinship, and love as well. His own memories and those of his companion
were becoming indistinguishable. He had been born in France in the year
2305, he had lived centuries, he had commanded starships, he had seen
every wonder the galaxy had to offer, he had caused suffering and had done
good, he had saved lives and been responsible for the loss of others, he
had helped ensure the survival of an entire species, he had been put on
trial by a godlike being, and he had prevented a man from committing a
crime that would have shattered his soul. His own identity was utterly
absorbed in Q's. The feelings, experiences, ideas, and knowledge sweeping
through him had become a torrent, and he had lost himself, he didn't know
who he was, and he was drowning . . . overwhelmed . . . engulfed . . .
annihilated . . . spiralling away into . . .
a new birth. He? they? it? Out of the annihilation of two identities a
new one emerged. This identity had both Q's impulsiveness and Picard's
discipline, Q's restlessness and Picard's ambition, Q's flamboyance and
Picard's reserve, Q's vast knowledge and Picard's accumulated wisdom, Q's
mocking sarcasm and Picard's dry wit; it had an incisive intelligence, a
wide-ranging imagination, an arrogant self-confidence, vulnerabilities,
doubts, needs, and desires. The two original identities comprising this
new one no longer complemented and mirrored each other; they were one.
This new identity had compiled hundreds of years worth of sights and
experiences, scientific knowledge and metaphysical understanding, but its
perspective on all of that accumulated information was one of exaltation
and wonder. He? they? mentally explored the spatial and temporal fabric
of the universe, feeling neither jaded nor cynical but utterly struck with
awe.
When he later tried to find words to describe the experience, trying to
make a personal log, Picard was frustrated. His usual verbal facility
failed him. How to describe the conviction that he was no longer himself
but one with Q, a new being comprised of the two of them? How to describe
the influx of all of Q's knowledge and experiences, which as part of this
combined being he actually understood? How to describe the terrifying but
ultimately delicious surrender of self in order to merge absolutely with
another? How to describe the intimacy (such a feeble word) of mutually
sharing every iota of one's being with another, the exhilaration of
unconditional vulnerability and mutual exposure? How to describe the awe
and joy of truly joining with another, dissolving all the barriers of
separation? And how to describe the realization of the depths of Q's
feelings for him and his own growing reciprocation of them? And finally
how to describe the heartbreak of withdrawal, the resumption of two
separate identities?
After what seemed like days, weeks of exploring the universe as well as
the memories and emotions of their coalesced mind (although it was only an
hour), developing an understanding of each other that was unparalleled in
any human interactions, it was necessary to draw apart. This was somewhat
trickier than joining was; as the fused mind began to separate into two, a
wave of unutterable sadness washed through both of them. Individually
each of them began to feel that same sickening, spiralling loss of self
they had experienced before, but the self they were losing was the joined
self, and in time they each emerged from the dizzying, overwhelming
process their separate selves again. When Picard first emerged from the
trance he had been in and remembered who he was, the first sensation he
registered was tears trickling down his face. He opened his eyes to see Q
looking at him, his eyes wide and glistening as well.
Picard couldn't speak, but Q murmured softly in a choked voice, "You
really haven't lost me, Jean-Luc; it just feels like it right now. This
will pass, but the exhilaration of what we've shared will always be part
of both of us."
Picard nodded, still too filled with emotion to trust himself to speak.
He extended his hands slightly toward Q, whispering only "Please," and Q
instantly joined him on the couch. He bent over, joining Picard in an
embrace, and they remained in that pose for quite some time.
When he was able to talk, Picard whispered, "What I . . . we . . . saw and
felt, it was so miraculous, so wondrous, but it's slipping away, I'm
losing it all, I'm already forgetting it."
"I know," murmured Q gently, lightly tracing his companion's cheekbone and
jawline with one finger. "It's just too much for you to retain. Your
mind wasn't designed to hold so much. But you will remember what you need
to remember. A lot of the knowledge and memories are buried deep within
your mind, but when you need them to guide you or sustain you, they will
emerge. Trust me."
"I do. Unreservedly."
* * *
The next morning Picard awoke in bed, smiling. He stretched luxuriously,
feeling far more relaxed and elated than he usually allowed himself to
feel, then noticed Q perched on the edge of his bed, arms folded and
grinning. "Good morning, love of my life."
"Good morning, Q. What are you grinning about?"
"You, of course. I like watching you stretch like that. It definitely
shows you off to advantage."
Picard laughed. "If I didn't know you as well as I do now, I would accuse
you of objectifying me."
"Well, I am, just as all the women and several of the men on this ship
do. But that's only a small component of my feelings for you. How much
do you remember?"
"Quite a bit, actually. Not a lot of details; I don't understand the
workings of the universe nearly so well as I did when we were joined, but
I remember a lot. I couldn't begin to describe the sensation, but you
know what I was feeling as well as I do. Thank you, mon ami."
"It was my pleasure, mon Capitaine."
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Conclusion (1/2)
Date: 2 Sep 1995 22:41:17 GMT
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 301
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NNTP-Posting-Host: user41.lightside.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
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Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 18 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Chapter 18
With a flash of light, two male figures appeared on a ledge, near the top
of a mountain on a remote planet in the far reaches of the galaxy. One of
them felt mind-boggling rush of cold for a moment, but that was
immediately replaced by a cocoon of warmth as a large shimmering blanket
materialized and wrapped itself around him.
"Welcome to my parlor, mon Capitaine. Would you care to have a seat?"
The men sat down next to each other, knees drawn up. "Mind if I share
your blanket, Jean-Luc? I don't need it, of course, and in fact, I could
keep you warm without it, but I like the idea. This is our last date for
a while; I'd like to make the most of it." Wordlessly, Picard extended
the blanket, and Q drew next him so that their arms and knees were
touching, the blanket around both their shoulders. Thus settled, Picard
began to take in the spectacular light show spiralling in front of him.
"The furnishings are a little primitive, I'm afraid, but I hope you like
the view," remarked Q.
"I . . . I'm completely awestruck. I've seen a great many things, but
this just takes my breath away, Q. I have a dim memory of this sight from
when we joined minds, but there was so much else going on I didn't
register it very well. It is utterly beautiful, but that word seems so
inadequate. Thank you," Picard finished simply.
"The pleasure is all mine," replied the entity. "I've been wanting to
bring you here for years, and you must know, you're the only one who's
ever been here besides me."
Picard looked wonderingly at Q's face. "I'm grateful, and I'm touched."
The men lapsed into silence. Picard had become so comfortable with his
companion, that there was often no need to talk. They simply sat
absorbing each other's presence, like this, barely touching. Picard gazed
in awe at the procession of lights and colors, at the same time beginning
to be overwhelmed with a flood of emotion for the being beside him. Q
basked in satisfaction, enjoying Picard's amazement. After many minutes,
Q spoke, "I have to confess, much as I brought you here for your pleasure,
I had a selfish motive as well. Seeing this," he gestured toward the sky,
"with you, sharing you experiencing it for the first time, helps me
recapture the wonder I felt the first time I saw it, centuries ago. It's
feeling that I've almost entirely lost, unfortunately. That's one reason
why joining minds with you was so extraordinary for me; seeing literally
through your eyes enabled me to feel a kind of awe and reverence for
what's out here that I'm no longer capable of. It's as if, as your poet
Byron put it, 'never more on me / The freshness of the heart can fall like
dew.'"
"Byron," murmured Picard thoughtfully. "*That's* who you look like; I've
seen portraits of him."
"Gee, what an astonishing coincidence," muttered Q sarcastically. "I love
you, but you're such a hopeless dunderhead," he added in a tone that
mingled both affection and exasperation. "Did it ever occur to you that I
might have *selected* the form in which I chose to appear to you mortals?"
"Well, it does make sense, I'll admit," returned Picard. "At least in
terms of the image he projected. His misanthropy and defiance, his
cynicism and disillusionment, his outlaw stance . . ."
"His sexual versatility," added Q with a wink, "but I have far better
taste than he did. He went for much younger men, boys really. Waste of
time as far as I'm concerned."
Anxious to change the subject, Picard turned his attention back to the
view. "You'll have to forgive my usual obtuseness, but how can you,
Byronic world-weariness notwithstanding, take *that* for granted?"
"Oh Jean-Luc, will you ever get it? I can *create* something like that if
I want. This is still special to me, because it is something I
discovered, as if it was created just for me, but I still can't feel the
awe and joy that I sense in you. I can share in *your* feelings, and I'm
infinitely grateful for that, but I'm not capable of feeling that way on
my own."
"So, we lowly humans do have some advantages you don't, eh?"
"Hard to believe, but true. Only you're so lunkheaded, you don't have the
capacity to appreciate what you have. You keep trying to be more like us,
not realizing what you will eventually lose."
Both men smiled. They had had this conversation many times before, and
Q's impatience at human limitations and Jean-Luc's strenuous defense of
his own species had long become a form of affectionate teasing for them,
instead of the life-or-death confrontation it had been previously.
Picard was immediately distracted by yet another wonder unfolding before
him. A meteor shower was spinning flashes of light across his field of
vision. He had never seen a meteor shower from that perspective before,
and it was awe-inspiring. When he could speak again, he said, "When I was
a child, I used to watch shooting stars, as we called them. I knew, of
course, that it was a meteor shower, and I always hoped I would find a
meteor fragment; it seemed if I did, I would hold the secrets of the
universe in my hand. I never found one though."
"Would you like one now?" Q opened his hand, palm up, and a glowing
object materialized upon it. "Careful, it's hot."
"I know that, Q, I'm not a child, you know." Picard's momentary
irritation dissolved. "It's beautiful."
The men watched it glow for a few minutes, then Q blew on the meteor
fragment gently until it cooled, then handed it to his companion. "For
you, a souvenir." He smiled.
Picard clutched his gift tightly in his hand. "Well, I don't know if I'm
holding the secrets of the universe, but I do know I'm holding something
unimaginably precious to me. You once told me I was an impossible person
to buy a gift for, but you seem to have figured out the right kind of
gift."
Q smiled ruefully, remembering the circumstance of that earlier remark.
"I'm sorry, Jean-Luc, I couldn't resist the impulse to force you into
those situations, like the Sherwood Forest game. I guess I was just
trying to get your attention, but I didn't have a clue, for all my
omniscience, of how to go about it the right way."
Picard slipped the meteor fragment into his pocket. Gesturing at the view
before him, he explained, "This is utterly spectacular. I'll be forever
grateful for your showing it to me. You can strike me with awe with
demonstrations of your power. But, ultimately, it's not your immense
power that makes this experience so meaningful to me; it's the company. I
can't help being overwhelmed and intimidated by what you can *do*, but
that's not how you've won my trust and affection, my friend. It's the
feeling that prompted you to bring me here that really moves me. It's the
way you've allowed yourself to be open and vulnerable with me, despite
your omnipotence. And I know how hard that was for you, and that made
even more of an impression on me. I'm still so awestruck and flattered
and grateful that you wanted to join with me as we did."
"I guess in matters of the heart, I'm the obtuse one. It certainly took
me a long time to figure that out, and I'm still not entirely comfortable
with it. Vulnerability is not a state I'm used to. Did you notice after
we joined minds, both of us felt the need to put some distance between us
for a few days? Even after that I fall into my habit of thinking of
vulnerability as something to exploit in you, not to allow in myself. But
I may be trying to get used to it in more ways than you think."
"What do you mean, Q?"
Q replied quietly, with complete seriousness and sincerity. "I'm thinking
of giving it all up, not immediately, of course, but eventually."
"What? I don't understand."
"My omnipotence. My immortality. To become human and eventually . . . to
die." Q continued musing, "Maybe I'll do it when you retire--I'll buy
myself a little French villa next door to you, plant a garden, and drop in
for a glass of wine and some stimulating conversation in the evenings.
You won't be able to get rid of me. Then again, on the other hand, I may
be too much of a coward. I am thinking about it, but I don't have any
real conviction that I actually will."
Picard was both shocked and moved. "Why are you thinking about it at
all? Do you understand what you're saying?"
"Of course, I understand. That's why I haven't entirely made up my mind.
The idea terrifies me--I like to dominate, I like to be in control,
completely without effort. I'm used to wielding an immense amount of
power, and I have to decide if I can live without that, if I can accept
what to me would be a state of utter helplessness. But I'm seriously
considering it. Look at this private light show of mine. I know it's
spectacular, but I can't feel it. Aside from the fact that I could
*create* it, I know it will still be here in thousands of years, as will
I. I have no reason to make any given visit to this place significant,
because I know I can always come back. So I take it for granted.
Do you have any idea what my existence was like before I encountered you?
I was lonely and bored almost beyond the point of my sanity.
Relationships with my own kind were no solution; they always end more or
less bitterly. There was no one I could stand for *eternity*. So what
did I spend my time doing? Inflicting pain and suffering on beings less
powerful than myself just to get a feeling that I was alive. I tried
inflicting pain on myself too--just to get some kind of sensation that
really rocked me. Nothing worked. There was this great gaping void in
me, a result of the fact that nothing meant anything to me because there
was nothing I didn't take for granted. You, Jean-Luc Picard, are the only
thing in my existence that I have any real sense of urgency and
significance and passion and intense feeling about, and that is because
you're mortal. I can't take you for granted because I know I will lose
you, and that makes you unimaginably precious to me. I could make you
immortal, but I don't think that's what you want."
"No, you're right. After all, it was you who reminded me, and I quote,
'how important each moment must be.' Without that sense of urgency, I
could no longer be the person I am."
"Precisely. I'm alive and engaged when I'm with you in a way that I'm not
in any other aspect of my existence. No matter what I do outside of my
feelings for you, whether good or ill, I get bored with it. My power is a
crutch to me; I didn't earn it, I didn't do anything to merit it. It's
just what I've depended on to keep my ego inflated, to convice myself of
my own superiority. Whatever power you have, you worked for and proved
yourself. But I'm just like one of those bloated 19th century European
aristocrats from your history. I'm a parasite; I didn't live off the work
of others, I lived vicariously off the emotions of others. When I
inflicted pain on mortal beings, forcing them to confront their own
mortality, I got a temporary artificial thrill, witnessing the spectacle
of a feeling I would never have myself. At the same time I was trying to
convince myself of my own superiority by demonstrating just how much power
I could wield, trying to bolster my sense of myself by victimizing those
less powerful. Guinan understood; she tried to explain to me once why I
was doing what I did, and, naturally, I didn't listen. I lost my temper
and went on a rampage. She was barely able to stop me, and I resented her
ever since; you can understand why she didn't exactly greet me with glee
upon our reunion. I'm terrified of giving it all up, really terrified,
but perhaps I have to become mortal and vulnerable and limited so that
what I do have acquires genuine meaning. I want to understand what it
means to see a world in a grain of sand, to have to stretch my imagination
to do so, instead of simply having eternity effortlessly at my grasp. I
used to berate you because you weren't turning yourself into a mirror of
me, because you weren't making these quantum leaps to *my* exalted level.
For so long I was frustrated that you were not becoming more like *me*,
when I finally realized that, whether I keep my powers or give them up, I
needed to become more like *you*."
Picard's eyes were filled with tears. He was overwhelmed with emotion,
and could only murmur, "Q, I hope you understand what you mean to me, and
how much what you've said means to me. But I feel that I know you well
enough know to presume to offer advice, and I worry that you would be
sacrificing too much of what constitutes yourself."
"That may be. I certainly haven't decided one way or another."
"There are so many benefits you could confer *with* those powers. I
understand the temptation to go way too far, but even in a limited
fashion, you could be a real force for good as you have for us."
"You're right, of course, but helping out you mortals has never appealed
to me very much. I honestly don't find most mortals interesting enough
for me to expend even the minimal effort to make their lives better. Your
whole species would have been eliminated by now if I hadn't taken a
personal interest in *you*, Picard. I just can't see myself spreading
goodness and light through the galaxy."
"You've got a point there," responded Picard drily. "How will you decide?"
"I don't know. It's a tossup, right now. I'm certainly not giving any
powers up while you're still roaming around the galaxy sticking your nose
where it shouldn't be and getting yourself in trouble. You may be able to
get along without me most of the time, but the time will come when you're
gonna need me. Remember, I have a mandate to keep an eye on you. But
maybe someday, if you ever do settle down, I'll consider it. Being around
you keeps reminding me how much I'm missing. Omnipotence isn't everything
it's cracked up to be."
Picard laughed. "That's the last thing I would have expected to hear from
you, but I certainly shouldn't expect an omnipotent and immortal entity to
be any more consistent than the rest of us."
"'A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds,' or as another
one of your writers from Earth, one of my personal favorites, put it, 'Do
I contradict myself? / Very well then I contradict myself, / (I am large,
I contain multitudes.)'"
"That you most certainly do, my friend," said Picard laughing, but his
tone quickly turned more serious. "And getting to know those multitudes
is a privilege for which I'm utterly grateful. Aggravating as you are, I
*will* miss you.
"And I you. But for now, you'd better get your requests in while you can,
Jean-Luc. Is there anything you want before I go? Name it. You've given
me life, and I owe you."
"Well Q, I do have a request," said Picard.
"I aim to please, mon Capitaine."
"Kiss me, Q."
"Why, Jean-Luc--I thought you'd *never* ask."
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."
From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Conclusion (2/2)
Date: 2 Sep 1995 22:48:17 GMT
Organization: Lightside, Inc.
Lines: 442
Message-ID:
NNTP-Posting-Host: user48.lightside.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Qstruck
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein
Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 18 chapters. The characters were
created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm
taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at
ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and
ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find
previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available
on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely
(I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely
strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate
realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as
well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent"
conversations are indicated with double slashes (//).
Epilogue
//In the year 2405, Q reclined upon a ledge near a mountain top on what he
had come to think of as his own personal planet. He had barely moved in
the past several years except to drop in on Picard occasionally; as Picard
aged, they had drifted further and further apart. Q spent much of his
time wondering if he should have given up his immortality as he had
considered doing, but he suspected that even if he had aged along with
Picard, they would have gotten on each others' nerves after a while. And
Q had found Picard's physical aging terrifying. Picard's mind was as
acute as ever, but the thought of allowing himself to undergo the aging
process he was observing in his beloved seemed unimaginable to him. He
was used to transcending time, not being subject to it. That was all
very well for Q, but it did not make him a very suitable companion for an
elderly man. So he would visit on occasion, and sometimes take Picard on
brief jaunts around the galaxy, but he never overstayed his welcome. He
had on occasion gone back to different points in the past, when Picard was
younger, and had relived those moments, but he had to be extraordinarily
careful not to change anything. He knew that Picard would not approve of
having his life tampered with in that fashion. Although Picard's
retirement seemed unimaginably dreary to an eternally energetic and
restless entity like himself, he knew that Picard was satisfied with
things exactly as they were. He had accomplished more than anyone could
ask for, and he was making good use of his retirement to spend time with
those who were important to him. But Q felt increasingly disconnected
from him. Their mental link was taking up a smaller and smaller portion
of their respective minds, dwindling with disuse.//
//Hardly watching the light show that had almost entirely ceased to charm
him, he suddenly became aware of something approaching. He sat up and
began mentally exploring, only to discover a starship heading toward his
planet. Well, that was too much really. The last thing he needed was a
group of humans prying around with their primitive instruments and narrow
concerns. If they were exploring this far out, the next thing he knew
there'd be a colony here. Q certainly wasn't going to allow that. His
mood changed slightly when he observed, much to his amusement, that the
ship had a familiar name, if different designation: USS Enterprise
NCC-1701 F. "//Starfleet certainly has a sentimental attachment to that
name//," he thought to himself. "//They're going to go through the whole
alphabet pretty soon if they keep blowing them up.//" Sighing at human
foibles, he decided to probe further, actually somewhat relieved to have a
diversion from his depression.//
//Without having to leave his mountain top, Q could easily examine the
interior of the approaching ship. Quickly absorbing the computer's
records, he noted that the Captain was one Helen Reilly, aged 40, who had
a string of distinctions and commendations. According to reports of
superiors, she was known for courage and resourcefulness . . . as well as
a legendary temper. Q began to observe her in action on the bridge, duly
impressed by her tall, lean figure, her short, curly, reddish hair and
pale skin, her strikingly beautiful, angular face with cheekbones to die
for, and the intense, withering, penetrating stare that dismayed anyone
who was so unfortunate to be the object of it. She had Picard's
confidence and determination, but operated in an entirely different style,
snapping commands sharply, as if impatient they hadn't been anticipated,
and punctuating reprimands with an impressive command of profanity when
her commands weren't executed precisely according to her standards.
Hearing her dress down a crewmember with a string of creative aspersions
on her unfortunate victim's intelligence, Q smiled. Maybe it was a good
thing he had kept his powers and immortality after all. He continued
watching as she retired to her ready room, where he witnessed an
altogether different side of her character as she cuddled and cooed to a
pet cat.//
//"//Well, Captain Helen Reilly certainly thinks highly of herself//," Q
reflected. "//Perhaps it's time to see if she's justified in that
belief.//" Having determined that the Enterprise definitely was on course
toward his planet, Q busied himself with devising a welcome Captain Reilly
and her crew would not soon forget. One fact he had noted in her records
was that she insisted on leading most away missions herself, confident
that her resourcefulness and ingenuity were wasted if she remained on the
ship. Her promotion to Captain had resulted from the daring leadership
she had exhibited on one particularly harrowing away mission, and she had
accepted the promotion contingent on being allowed to do what she did
best, which was to be where the action was.//
//Q didn't have much time, so he combined features of several of the most
threatening humanoid races of the galaxy to comprise the members of his
welcoming committee; they were as tall as Nausicaans, with impressive
facial ridges and short, bristling hair, and they had the strength and
speed of Klingons. Deciding to make things a little challenging, he
provided them with weapons slightly more advanced than the Federation's
latest hand-held phasers. Finding a convenient vantage point, he waited,
while the Enterprise entered standard orbit. "//I suppose I could just
erect a sign reading 'Private Property. No Trespassing. Violators will
be vaporized,' but this should prove more entertaining//," he mused.
"//And I want to convince Captain Reilly that this planet is really unfit
for further exploration.//"//
//As the away team beamed down, Q effortlessly diverted them to the
location where he wanted them, simultaneously freezing all the ship's
controls and sensors. "//So much for the wonders of technology; it's so
predictably unreliable//," he said to himself with a grin. After having
been in a state of boredom and apathy for the past several years, he was
quite happy to have a sense of purpose again. As soon as the away team
materialized on the planet surface, they were ambushed by a large group of
armed warriors, who instantly fired on and stunned two crew members.
Reilly was the fastest draw in Starfleet, and she fired on the closest
attacker, but had very little effect. "Level 3, heavy stun, NOW!" she
exclaimed, matching actions to words. Within seconds she had fired on and
stunned three of the attackers. The rest of the away team was similarly
occupied.//
//Q maneuvered the attackers so that Reilly was surrounded by a group of
three and isolated from her crew. One of the attackers fired a low level
beam directly at Reilly's wrist, which caused her phaser to go flying out
of her hand. The group converged on her, clearly intending to capture
rather than kill her. Ignoring the pain in her wrist, Reilly whirled and
with a spinning kick she dislodged the weapon from the nearest attacker's
hand, leaving him howling in pain as he grabbed his arm. Sensing another
immediately behind her, she drove her elbow into his stomach with such
force that the watching Q winced in sympathy and clutched his stomach.
She was impressively fast, and as the elbowed attacker staggered backward,
Reilly spun around and snatched the weapon out of his loose fingers while
delivering a devastatingly well-aimed kick to a sensitive portion of his
anatomy. Q hadn't been original enough to include interesting anatomical
variations in his creations, so Reilly's intuition was accurate. Q
inhaled sharply and bit his lower lip. He had maintained the form of a
human male long enough to imagine what that kick must have felt like, and
it wasn't pleasant. Almost without stopping Reilly turned on the third of
her attackers, smashing him in the head with the weapon as he bore down
upon her, then fired upon the first attacker who had approached her.
Within a matter of minutes she had downed several of Q's creations, and
her crew had taken care of the rest. She walked over and retrieved her
own phaser, which she was fond of, from the ground and then, wiping her
hands briskly together in satisfaction, she remarked, "Well, this
certainly isn't a hospitable planet."//
//In a massive flash of light, the bodies of the fallen attackers
vanished. In another flash, Reilly's crew had been whisked up to the
Enterprise, leaving only the Captain remaining on the planet with her
as-yet-unseen observer. Reilly folded her arms, smiled, and remarked in a
casual tone, "I should have known it was you. I was wondering if you'd
ever make an appearance."//
//"Moi?" returned a disembodied, resonating, hollow voice.//
//"Yeah, you. I know your MO, Q. It *is* Q isn't it? I suppose you've
immobilized my ship, too."//
//"Of course," replied the echoing voice, "God is in the details. How do
you know who I am?"//
//Reilly idly wandered over to a rock, where she sat down, stretched out
her legs, crossed her ankles, took out her phaser, and proceeded to flip
it in the air and catch it repeatedly, looking perfectly relaxed and a
little bored.//
//"Aren't you worried about dropping that?" asked the voice. "I've heard
they overload."//
//"I've never dropped one yet," replied Reilly, tossing the phaser higher
in the air and catching it with a backhanded catch. "And they've improved
the technology. They're much safer. Are you interested in the design
specifications?"//
//"Spare me; you humans are going to remain as backward as ever if you
don't outgrow your unwarranted faith in technology. But what I do want to
know is how you know who I am."//
//Reilly yawned and stretched, then returned to flipping and catching the
phaser. "Well, conversing with disembodied voices really doesn't do a
whole lot for me. Why don't you show yourself?"//
//Q appeared in as blinding a blaze of light that he could muster. He had
resumed wearing his favorite Starfleet uniform, and he bowed grandly, with
an ironic smile and eyes that were sparkling with amusement. "Q,
omnipotent superbeing and Starfleet officer manqué, at your service," he
announced with a rare touch of self-deprecating humor.//
//Reilly stopped flipping the phaser, but did not otherwise shift her
relaxed pose, except to look Q up and down with a frankly appraising
gaze. Nodding approvingly with a smile and almost as if talking to
herself, she remarked, "I don't know why Picard objected to your wearing a
Starfleet uniform. The colors are *you*."//
//Q looked at her sharply. His air of cool mockery and arrogance
vanished, and his face softened. "Picard?" he murmured. "You know
Picard?"//
//Reilly nodded, "Yes, he told me a lot about you." //
//Q noticed the slightest of shivers pass through her body. "I'm sorry!"
he exclaimed. "You must be freezing. It's been so long since I've dealt
with humans, I forgot about temperature." He quickly warmed the air
around where Reilly sat.//
//"You know, I'd love to chat, but I'd like to tell my crew I'm OK, and
really don't you think we'd be more comfortable on the ship?"//
//"You're inviting me on board the Enterprise? That's a new one on me. I
always had to invite myself before."//
//Reilly jumped to her feet, walked up to Q, and looked him directly in
the eye. "Frankly, I've been intrigued about you ever since I read about
you at the Academy and heard about you from Picard. I was hoping we might
attract your attention."//
//"You're full of surprises, Captain. Most humanoids want nothing to do
with me. By the way, I'd like to apologize for giving you such a hard
time on your arrival. I just couldn't resist."//
//"Well, it wasn't really a hard time, frankly."//
//"I could arrange for a more challenging test, if you desire!" snapped Q.//
//"I'll take a raincheck. I'd rather get to know you better."//
//Q smiled, snapped his fingers, and teleported himself and Reilly to her
quarters.//
//"Welcome aboard. I would like to check in with my crew. And I'd
appreciate it if you'd release my ship."//
//Q nodded and flipped his hand palm upward, with fingers outstretched.
"She's all yours."//
//"Thanks." Reilly conversed briefly with her first officer, assuring him
that she was fine, then turned back to Q.//
//"I'd like to ask you a favor, Captain. I've come to think of that
planet as my personal retreat. It's the closest thing to a home I have.
I'd just as soon not have ships prying around."//
//"No problem. I'll file a report that the planet was inhabited by an
entity that would prefer to be left alone, and declare it off limits."//
//Q was still so preoccupied with the news that Reilly knew Picard, he
didn't notice until that point that she had several scrapes and bruises on
her face and arms, and her uniform was ripped and streaked with dirt.
"Where are my manners? Allow me," he exlaimed, waving his hand up and
down in front of her, so that she was instantly cleaned up and healed.//
//Reilly nodded, gestured toward an armchair, then walked over to the
replicator. "Drink?"//
//"No thanks, but help yourself." As soon as Q sat down, Reilly's cat
wandered over, meowed purposefully, then jumped on his lap, turning around
several times in circles, then settling down comfortably for a nap. "//Is
that my role in this universe, with all my powers, to give cats a place to
sleep?//" he wondered to himself.//
//Armed with glass of wine, Reilly sat down on the sofa, and Q said
thoughtfully, "I get it. The dates work out. You must have been a
student of his at the Academy."//
//"Very perspicacious of you. You should have been a private
investigator. But of course you could have picked that out of my head."//
//"Of course, but I didn't. One of the things I learned from him was that
you humans are particularly touchy about the sanctity of your puny little
minds, so I don't probe you gratuitously. But if I had a good reason, I
would. Respecting others' privacy has never been my strong point."//
//"So I've heard. Yes, I took several classes with him, and he took
rather a fancy to me."//
//"I'm not surprised. You would be quintessentially his type. He
probably regrets not having met you when he was younger."//
//She laughed, "Well, I looked up to him tremendously. We all did--his
career was so legendary. But I was always pretty driven; I had the
presumption to see myself following in his footsteps. I would walk with
him after class, visit his office hours, things like that. He became my
mentor and a good friend . . . and gave me hell in that quiet but deadly
way of his when I didn't perform up to his expectations. I visit him
whenever I make it back to Earth, which isn't very often, unfortunately.
He's one of the few people I really miss."//
//"Tell me about it," muttered Q. Then he smiled. "I just figured out why
Jean-Luc never told me about you. He probably wanted to keep me away from
you."//
//Reilly laughed, "yes, he's awfully protective of me, although, believe
me, I can take care of myself. He'd say, 'I know he'd never harm me, but
Q is unpredictable and capricious and a distraction you don't need.'"//
//Q laughed, looking skyward, "You flatter me, Jean-Luc."//
//"Well, actually, I think he was just trying to have you to himself. He
talked about you a lot, and I was intrigued from the start, but whenever I
asked to meet you, he refused. He did always say that he figured I'd run
across you some day on my own, but he didn't want to be responsible for
it. And here you are. I'm surprised you didn't find out about me in your
own way, however."//
//"Well, Jean-Luc has always had this thing about privacy. He learned to
block off portions of his mind from casual probing; I can still get in if
I make the effort, but not undetected. I've learned over the years that
we get along better if I don't push him too much. We . . . ah . . . ," Q
sighed, "we haven't been as close since he returned to Earth. He still
enjoys travelling and seeing new things; to him this galaxy is a
never-ending source of wonder. He's never gotten jaded. But with every
passing year, we grow more impatient with each other, so I limit my
visits. I'm afraid the human aging process makes me uncomfortable. I
wanted him to remain as he was when I first met him--God, he was
glorious--and he gets irritated with the fact that I *don't* change, that
I'm as self-absorbed and self-indulgent as ever, as he repeatedly scolds
me." Q put his head in hands for a moment, then rapidly ran his fingers
through his hair, trying to get a grip on himself. "I don't usually
believe in regret, Captain, but I keep wondering whether I should have
become mortal like him and grown old with him. I didn't have the courage
to do it, but now I'll always wonder if I should have."//
//"You could go back . . ."//
//"Yes, I could, but he wouldn't approve. I used to be able to talk him
into travelling with me in time, but he's gotten more and more stubborn
about the sanctity of the god damned flow of history. He wouldn't want
his own past altered by my inserting myself into it in such a sustained
way. And I don't know if he would want me around anyway. Jean-Luc and I
can hardly carry on a conversation without aggravating the hell out of
each other, but Captain, you can't begin to imagine how much I still love
him," Q finished quietly.//
//"He loves you, too, you know, in his own way," said Reilly softly.//
//"Would you like to go visit him one of these days? I'd love to see his
reaction when we walk through the door."//
//"You would. And I'd love to go. But I think he always expected I'd run
across you eventually. Otherwise, why would he keep warning me about
you?"//
//"What kinds of things did he say about me?"//
//Reilly gestured toward her head, "Wouldn't you get a better idea if you
saw for yourself? You're welcome to look."//
//"I'd appreciate that," said Q. "I'll try to keep out of whatever isn't
my business." He closed his eyes, not that it was necessary for him to
read her mind, but because her face was so distracting. He had thought he
would never be attracted to anyone again after Picard, but he hadn't ever
expected to meet another human who was so intriguing. He began gently
probing Reilly's mind, seeing her, at the age of 20, talking earnestly
with her octogenarian professor, trying to prove herself worthy to follow
in his footsteps and trying to learn as much as she could from his epic
career. Q also noted the way she flirted with Picard and how pleased he
was with her company. He murmured to Reilly, "He really enjoyed you. I'm
glad; you mean a lot to him, and he deserves all the enjoyment he can
get."//
//Reilly nodded, and Q closed his eyes again and probed further, viewing
all the occasions when Picard had talked to his young student about his
omnipotent friend. Q was moved by how strong Picard's feelings for him
still were, by Picard's gratitude for what Q was able to do for him, and
by Picard's own confusion and soul-searching about their relationship.
"Hearing" Picard reminisce about their times together in Reilly's
memories, Q was overcome with emotion. For all the frustration and
irritation and exasperation he knew Picard still felt toward him, there
was a consistently strong current of love and affection and appreciation.
The last time Picard had seen Reilly, two years ago, he had said, "I don't
know if I'll ever truly understand just what he means to me, but whatever
our differences, I do know that the bond between us has transfigured my
life in a way for which I will be ever grateful."//
//Q sighed to himself; it was a never-ending source of frustration to him
that there was still such a barrier between himself and Picard. Any
closeness they attained invariably compelled a new separation. The
exhilaration of finding oneself so closely mirrored in another was
inevitably accompanied by the infinite variety of irritations afforded by
seeing one's flaws mirrored as well. Q knew he was lucky to have found
someone who had allowed him to lower his many defenses, to shed some of
his cynicism and really feel, but those feelings were acutely painful at
times as well. When Q slowly blinked his eyes open, he noticed that
Reilly was perched on the arm of his chair. She reached out, combed
through his hair with her fingers several times, then traced the track of
a tear with her thumb in a curve under his eye. Overcome by an intense
desire for comfort and companionship, Q surprised himself by resting his
head in Reilly's lap, while she softly stroked his hair. After a few
minutes in this position, he looked up, dry-eyed and trying, albeit not
very successfully, to muster his usual confident air. "I think I've got
your number, Mr. Omnipotent Superbeing," she said gently, "You don't fool
me for a minute."//
//"Well, I have left myself wide open haven't I?" he admitted. He then
captured her hand, and while tracing circles on the back of it with a
finger, he continued in a harder tone, "But let me give you fair warning.
Jean-Luc's right about me. I have the capacity to blow up in your face
when you least expect it, and it's not something I can entirely
control."//
//"I have a lot of experience handling explosives," returned Reilly.
"They're rather a hobby of mine."//
//"Well, to be a hobby of yours would be a privilege and a pleasure, Captain."//
//"I was hoping you'd see it that way." She grasped the front of his
uniform shirt, pulling him toward her to bring his mouth to hers.//
//After an extended kiss, Q drew back slightly, as a small white flag
materialized in his hand. He waved it slightly, smiling, and announcing
softly, "I surrender, Captain. Do with me what you will."//
//"I accept your terms, Q. Come with me." She got up from the arm of the
chair, her hand still grasping his shirt, and pulled him unresistingly
into the bedroom.//
//Later that night, lying awake as always, Q watched his sleeping
companion, taking in every angle and curve and detail of her body. Even
asleep, she seemed alert, her body taut, ready to wake up in an instant
and spring purposefully toward whatever awaited her. "//If anyone could
teach me how to make the most of a mortal existence, she could//," he
mused. "//Maybe this time I should give it all up. . . . But, then
again, maybe not. I certainly don't have to decide right this moment.
The possibilities, apparently, are endless.//"//
The End
Note: I wish to thank the breathtaking Sigourney Weaver (be still my
beating heart . . . ) and the creators of the "Alien" series for inspiring
the character of Helen Reilly.
--
Atara Stein
Wit and wisdom from Patrick Stewart in his role as Sterling in "Jeffrey":
--"Can I *do* this? Or do I look like some sort of gay superhero?"
--"Exactly. I said you needed a boyfriend, not a person."